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Make no mistake about it. I LOVE snow. Always have. Of course, that love came about as a kid, where days off of school and romping around in the white stuff made for fun during my formative years. Later in my adult workaday life, snow can sometimes be a headache, and I got busted up pretty bad in a car accident on my way to work in the stuff. But when I have a rare chance to enjoy a serious snowfall (none of that couple inches shit) and not have to deal with travel, work or other hassles, I relax and just drink it all in. I dont have to worry about being snowed in, I can easily dig myself out and I have the big old 4wd Dodge Cummins to blast around in, there is lots of food and stuff in the house.
This time, the snow started nicely on Saturday afternoon, wrapping it's calming blanket over the area. People stopped driving around, the night fell in a purple-grey fog. During the night that somewhat eerie yellowish brightness can be seen through the windows. Houses in the distance are obscured by the fog, and the lights are barely visible. The quiet atmosphere lets me actually hear the snow hitting the ground in a soft crystalline hiss. There is a certain snugness and warmth in the house when it snows, as the stuff acts as an insulator. I revel in the anechoic silence around me and sleep like, well, a bear in hibernation.
Sunday morning greeted me with 12-17 inches of snow. I grabbed my only working camera and fired off some shots of my winter wonderland. Little did I know there was a huge smudge on the lens that I somehow imported from NYC, so the shots have an appropriate haze to them.
The Blue Atlas cedar in the front yard wears it's coat well.
( More Snow Escapades here... )
This time, the snow started nicely on Saturday afternoon, wrapping it's calming blanket over the area. People stopped driving around, the night fell in a purple-grey fog. During the night that somewhat eerie yellowish brightness can be seen through the windows. Houses in the distance are obscured by the fog, and the lights are barely visible. The quiet atmosphere lets me actually hear the snow hitting the ground in a soft crystalline hiss. There is a certain snugness and warmth in the house when it snows, as the stuff acts as an insulator. I revel in the anechoic silence around me and sleep like, well, a bear in hibernation.
Sunday morning greeted me with 12-17 inches of snow. I grabbed my only working camera and fired off some shots of my winter wonderland. Little did I know there was a huge smudge on the lens that I somehow imported from NYC, so the shots have an appropriate haze to them.
The Blue Atlas cedar in the front yard wears it's coat well.
( More Snow Escapades here... )
