Snow, More Snow....
An insistent but light veil of snow superimposed itself on the landscape, from the street on which our house sits, to the forested enclave of the ravine. The wind shifting it, blowing it directly at our faces; tiny wet, cold whips. It's a Saturday and it's on the week-end that we tend, naturally, to see more area residents walking through the ravine, and most often with their companion pets.
Through the years we've come to know, at least by sight and brief greetings, a good many people engaged as we have become accustomed to, perambulating through the ravine: winter, spring, summer and fall. Then there are those who come through seldom, out of a sense of curiosity, or of guilt that they don't frequently enough take their energetic dogs out for walks.
Today was a mixed bag; coming across perfect strangers in this most natural of environments, and a few whom we've seen before. We hadn't gone very far, not even as far as the first bridge, when we encountered the first in a series of dogs and their humans, this day. We strained with some difficulty to pass two men, separately, walking their dogs just at the most narrow portion of the trail.
The first, a pale yellow Labrador, ran excitedly ahead, taking the width of the trail, then running back toward its walker. Each of us teetered carefully toward the opposite edges of the trail, the steeply-mounting, wooded bank on one side, the sheer collapsed bank on the other offering to surprise us with a slithering dump into the creek.
Then came another duo, a great black beast of a Labrador-and-something mix, whose ponderous head and soft brown eyes faced us quizzically, as it careened from us to its walking partner, and we all engaged in yet another little dance of avoidance, managing to pass one another without undue damage.
On we proceeded, over the first of the many bridges our quotidian ramble would take us over. Nothing left on the bridge rails of the unshelled peanuts we'd left the day before, but an empty half-shell. Above, the sky was a pewter ceiling. Wind ruffled fall-stubborn leaves hoisted by branches and a trunk beautifully hoar-frosted.
Before, and surrounding us, the landscape newly embroidered, bright white. There is green, now muted and subtleties of grey. Over all, transforming white, an almost monochromatic arras. Half-way through our circuit we came across yet another dog, this one leashed, small and grey. A young Schnauzer, hesitant to come out from behind his human's sheltering form.
We're informed he's 9 months old, and has been with his current family for two of those months. The balance, his earlier 7 months of existence, was spent in the confinement of a cage. He'd been treated to the traditional type of haircut given his breed, so his haircoat was well shorne, giving him scant protection against the damp cold.
Unaccustomed to the type of freedom he was now experiencing, the little dog was hesitant; curious but fearful on his first exposures to being socialized in the presence of other dogs. Even now, his companion told us, two months into his new life, he is not yet able to countenance climbing stairs with equanimity. He faces new experiences with obvious trepidation.
The sun, faintly seen as an almost-bright disk, seems to be trying, vainly, to burn its way through the shroud of clouds busy sprinkling their moist content over our little portion of the world. Some distance away, down below us, stands a solitary figure, garish in a hooded, dark-red coat. The figure stands still, absorbing the silence, the snow-laden scene.
Enfolding undulations cushioned with snow; on the rising banks above the creek and down below, where ice has formed on the edges of the creek and snow rests in soft pillows upon the ice. On sight of the figure Riley barks. The figure half-turns. We wave to one another, then move on, to the completion of our circuit.
Another encounter; another little dog. This one, we are informed, is a 3-month-old Standard Poodle. The like of which we have never before seen; its coat is different, a white background with large black spots. The small dog's long sharp muzzle is framed by elaborately fluffed ears. It is being walked, proudly, by a family. A mother, and her three adolescent children.
Snow falls, and continues to fall, and will continue to fall throughout the next several days.
Through the years we've come to know, at least by sight and brief greetings, a good many people engaged as we have become accustomed to, perambulating through the ravine: winter, spring, summer and fall. Then there are those who come through seldom, out of a sense of curiosity, or of guilt that they don't frequently enough take their energetic dogs out for walks.
Today was a mixed bag; coming across perfect strangers in this most natural of environments, and a few whom we've seen before. We hadn't gone very far, not even as far as the first bridge, when we encountered the first in a series of dogs and their humans, this day. We strained with some difficulty to pass two men, separately, walking their dogs just at the most narrow portion of the trail.
The first, a pale yellow Labrador, ran excitedly ahead, taking the width of the trail, then running back toward its walker. Each of us teetered carefully toward the opposite edges of the trail, the steeply-mounting, wooded bank on one side, the sheer collapsed bank on the other offering to surprise us with a slithering dump into the creek.
Then came another duo, a great black beast of a Labrador-and-something mix, whose ponderous head and soft brown eyes faced us quizzically, as it careened from us to its walking partner, and we all engaged in yet another little dance of avoidance, managing to pass one another without undue damage.
On we proceeded, over the first of the many bridges our quotidian ramble would take us over. Nothing left on the bridge rails of the unshelled peanuts we'd left the day before, but an empty half-shell. Above, the sky was a pewter ceiling. Wind ruffled fall-stubborn leaves hoisted by branches and a trunk beautifully hoar-frosted.
Before, and surrounding us, the landscape newly embroidered, bright white. There is green, now muted and subtleties of grey. Over all, transforming white, an almost monochromatic arras. Half-way through our circuit we came across yet another dog, this one leashed, small and grey. A young Schnauzer, hesitant to come out from behind his human's sheltering form.
We're informed he's 9 months old, and has been with his current family for two of those months. The balance, his earlier 7 months of existence, was spent in the confinement of a cage. He'd been treated to the traditional type of haircut given his breed, so his haircoat was well shorne, giving him scant protection against the damp cold.
Unaccustomed to the type of freedom he was now experiencing, the little dog was hesitant; curious but fearful on his first exposures to being socialized in the presence of other dogs. Even now, his companion told us, two months into his new life, he is not yet able to countenance climbing stairs with equanimity. He faces new experiences with obvious trepidation.
The sun, faintly seen as an almost-bright disk, seems to be trying, vainly, to burn its way through the shroud of clouds busy sprinkling their moist content over our little portion of the world. Some distance away, down below us, stands a solitary figure, garish in a hooded, dark-red coat. The figure stands still, absorbing the silence, the snow-laden scene.
Enfolding undulations cushioned with snow; on the rising banks above the creek and down below, where ice has formed on the edges of the creek and snow rests in soft pillows upon the ice. On sight of the figure Riley barks. The figure half-turns. We wave to one another, then move on, to the completion of our circuit.
Another encounter; another little dog. This one, we are informed, is a 3-month-old Standard Poodle. The like of which we have never before seen; its coat is different, a white background with large black spots. The small dog's long sharp muzzle is framed by elaborately fluffed ears. It is being walked, proudly, by a family. A mother, and her three adolescent children.
Snow falls, and continues to fall, and will continue to fall throughout the next several days.
Labels: Perambulations
posted by Pieface @ 1:14 PM
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