Who doesn’t love a fresh layer of snow on the trees and grasses? Wasn’t much for sun on the sunrise, but it was pretty nonetheless.
Ever noticed how spring has a stage where everything looks dirty and dingy? A new snowfall – even if it doesn’t last for more than a couple of days – makes the whole world look bright and inviting.
At just above freezing, with little to no wind, being high up above the ground was peaceful and quiet, with snow crunching underfoot and only the morning songs of the birds for company. In a very real sense, this morning walk has become my own personal Fortress of Solitude. It’s wonderful to share it with others, it truly is, and yet there’s a kind of feeling that’s intensely private and personal – like having a secret clubhouse in the woods as a kid. And somehow the glowing white of the snow calls to mind those hidden places and the imaginary friends who populated them.
Speaking of chance encounters… Bobbie and Shane joined me this morning. I happened to turn around – maybe I’d heard their feet crunching in the snow or something. As soon as I’d noticed them, I also noticed an eagle kiting very close to where they were walking and pointed it out.
Inarticulately. About all I could do was point and voice nonsense syllables. Fortunately Bobbie has raised two kids; she’s familiar with pointing and babbling. Then Shane told a story about a buddy of his who had a close encounter with a falcon.
“He tried to get a picture of it and it launched. And he was all, ‘This is awesome!’ until he realized it was launching right at him. Took a mouse off the fence behind him – like ten feet behind him. And he was, ‘I would have had this incredible shot, but I was too busy hitting the dirt!'”
Nature offered an opportunity, and he flinched. Understandably – Not sure I would have had the nerve to point the camera, focus, and hit the shutter button, myself. But it kind of makes a person wonder just how many chances at something incredible go begging because we flinch when we’re presented with them.