But that's what we got here in Spokane. Usually (and by usually I mean in the five autumns & winters I've lived in Spokane, plus the anecdotal experiences of my husband, who grew up here for the first 18 years of his life), the first winter snow doesn't happen until at least Thanksgiving, and doesn't really stick around until almost Christmas. This year, we had snow several days before T-day, and it's been snowing since, and it's supposed to keep snowing, and none of it has melted.
What is one to do when it snows? Snowshoe. So I did. I took the dog (Deena, my viszla), and went snowshoeing on my normal hiking/running trail, which parallels the Centennial Trail and the Spokane River (just northwest of the T.J. Meenach Bridge). The trees were all white and green dappled, and the trail in front of me was like one in a picture book. Eventually the only tracks were mine, and I found myself marveling at the lovely day as more light flakes fell around me. I also found myself, after about 45 minutes, sad to have to turn around, and actually recited Frost out loud to myself: "these woods are lovely, dark, and deep/but I have promises to keep," and a baby to get home to, who is probably saying "mama, mama" to her dad.
That was two days ago. Today, we bought a Christmas tree, dragged out the lights, and made burritos.
No comments:
Post a Comment