The snow.
It is deep.
Bud is okay with this "Winter" thing.
He and Hazel have certainly had a "deep end of the pool" introduction to snow.
Mourning Doves feed on the ground, and are not as comfortable with the deep snow as are the smaller, lighter birds. This one was resting for a while between feeding sessions.
The snow is over my knees.
Yesterday I waded out to the workshop
and retrieved my snowshoes from their place on the wall.
Then I waded back to the house and dusted off my logger boots.
Since my dungarees were still soaked from the day before, I dug out my old fleece-lined riding breeches, last worn in - I think - 2007.
This fetching ensemble brought back some good memories
of working in the woods during the Winter of 2000-2001.
19 years ago?
Crikey.
The snow kept falling until around noon, but in late afternoon the sun made a welcome appearance. I thought Piper might like to accompany me on my quest to the bottom of the unplowed driveway, where the Highlander was awaiting excavation.
Piper said, "No thanks. I'll just go back inside and let the clumps of snow on my legs melt into puddles throughout the house. You have fun, though!"
I got much of the snow off the truck, before throwing in the towel and leaving the rest for today, Wednesday. I needed to save a little energy for evening chores, which I finished up just as the sun was beginning to set.
I am happy to say more snow is *not* predicted, until Friday.
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