a skiff a dusting or trace

by underswansea

RCE_2341

Rain in the bottoms. Up top I knew it’d be snowing. It was hiding behind a range or two. But finally we found it. The first snow can be damn slippery. Packs into the tire treads I figure. Good thing I know how to ride on bald tires. Something learned long ago.

RCE_2332

Not only that – but my boots are at the end of their life. So I was slipping both ways, on tire and foot. Meanwhile Willow ran rampant. Dipping her tongue, here and there, for a taste of snow.

RCE_2343

The sky cleared and clouded over again. I like both the tops of spruce and the bottom when you need to stay dry. The ridges are up there. Still plenty of dry firewood, but it would be a chore fetching it without tread. Willow hung her head out the window on the way down – sniffing up the smells. Like her I was sorry to leave.

RCE_2367

Advertisements