First Snow

Saturday morning.  Awoken to Sawyer's Cow and all her impatience.  Feeding time. 

Wood on the fire.  Turn on the coffee.  Boots, coat on.

Head to the snowy, cold, crispy December morning air.

 

 

The sun peered through the snow clouds in the fresh morning air. 

The fluffy fallen snow of yesterday blanketed the ground and everything it fell on.  

The first snow of the season. 

Covered.   

Sawyer's Cow, as winter progresses, becomes a friend. 

During the summer, she's pretty sure we are not to be trusted. 
Inbred intuition that you don't bite the hand that feeds you takes over when the
 days shorten and cold settles.

Morning.  Just the beginning. 

 

It was a good day to be outside, if you like snow.

After a day filled with chores and the night chill had settled, we were beckoned outside.  Neighbor kids.  Playful.  So you want to rumble?  Rumble?  What's rumble?  Even though they didn't know the meaning, we rumbled.  The snow being so dry and soft, unable to pack a snowball.  So they brought shovels.  Everyone got a shovel and the snow was easy to toss and fling.  They just didn't factor in that I would insist on the widest, lightest shovel.  Turned out it wasn't much of a fight.  But it was fun.  I told them it was a good day for the Scott Valley Stomp.  Ya know.  Stomp your feet before going into the house to rid them of as much snow as possible.  Hence, the Scott Valley Stomp.