I took the snow pants off the shelf and removed the price tag. The pants had languished in the closet for over a year waiting for me to screw up the desire to put them on and go outside. Today would be the day. The sun was shining and it was only -20 C, the wind was just brisk - not gale force. Tree limbs were bent under the weight of the snow, which layered every single surface. It appeared to be a stunning day to gather my courage and go outside to take some photos.
Several minutes later, swathed in layers of clothing, boots on, and camera dangling around my neck I ventured outside into the sunshine alone. I was on a mission to take photos that would capture the wonder of our snowy landscape in brilliant mid-day sun. The snowy part isn't unusual. Snow has fallen every few days since the end of October, hiding the sun from view and keeping us in a state of perpetual gloominess.
Today the sun was out and I was going to be out too, squinting in the brightness and turning my face to catch a beam or to. It seemed like a great day to wander around the property taking a few photos so that when the snow and gloom descended again I would have something to remind me of a moment of bliss in the sunshine. It all sounds so harmless doesn't it?
My quest started innocently enough with some time near the bird feeder trying to get photos of the chickadees and nuthatches flitting in for a quick snack. If I stood still long enough they would come to the feeder, so I held the camera at the ready waiting for that perfect shot. There were two complications with that plan. Between the camera fogging up and the wind, you know the brisk one that made my eyes run so much I couldn't see when the birds came, I gave up. So I moved on venturing out behind the house to immortalize the shadows through the birch trees.
It's really hard to walk in so many layers of clothes especially if your snow pants are a tad too tight. To alleviate that situation I stood on the back steps and took a shot or two. Then I waddled back through the garage with the intention of taking some wonderful photos of the front of the house in our winter wonderland. Seems reasonable enough if one just stands on tip toe to see over the piles of snow that have been removed to keep the driveway clear. There I was face to face with the piles and I realized that they were nearly as tall as I was, so I would definitely have to climb over them if I wanted shots of the front of the house. Well, not to be deterred, I scaled the piles. They were crusty and fairly firm. Then I put one foot down on the other side and collapsed into snow that was nearly hip deep.
What a sight that must have been as I disappeared over the crest of the pile with a squeal, camera lifted high with one arm to keep it out of the snow. I was alone out there in the sunshine; Greg and Kanti had gone to town. I wondered momentarily if I was going to be able to find my feet without damaging the camera, or whether I would be stuck in the snow until Greg came home. I managed to swim back to the snow pile and clamber across to the civility and safety of the cleared driveway.
At that point in my little adventure I thought it would be prudent to remain on the driveway and not venture off into the pristine snow again. I decided to be content to take photos of the beautiful scenes along the driveway. I vowed to enjoy my adventure in the sunshine even though my fingers were becoming stiff, my tears were freezing on my cheeks from the wind, and my snow pants were restricting blood flow. Then the vehicle appeared in my viewfinder. Greg and Kanti had returned. I'm not sure which one of them looked more dumbfounded as they slowed to a stop on the driveway beside me. Greg just asked flat out "What are you doing?" Kanti simply sat perfectly still in the back seat of the vehicle studying me as if I was an alien.
I suppose my little adventure in the sunshine was rather alien, given that I don't think I have walked outside except in driveways and parking lots for over two months. It probably didn't help that I had so many clothes on that I looked like some queer version of the Michelin man. However, I am here to tell you I survived and there are a few photos to share, but I probably won't venture out again until spring unless I buy snow shoes and an avalanche beacon so Greg can find me if I fall into the snow banks.
Several minutes later, swathed in layers of clothing, boots on, and camera dangling around my neck I ventured outside into the sunshine alone. I was on a mission to take photos that would capture the wonder of our snowy landscape in brilliant mid-day sun. The snowy part isn't unusual. Snow has fallen every few days since the end of October, hiding the sun from view and keeping us in a state of perpetual gloominess.Today the sun was out and I was going to be out too, squinting in the brightness and turning my face to catch a beam or to. It seemed like a great day to wander around the property taking a few photos so that when the snow and gloom descended again I would have something to remind me of a moment of bliss in the sunshine. It all sounds so harmless doesn't it?
My quest started innocently enough with some time near the bird feeder trying to get photos of the chickadees and nuthatches flitting in for a quick snack. If I stood still long enough they would come to the feeder, so I held the camera at the ready waiting for that perfect shot. There were two complications with that plan. Between the camera fogging up and the wind, you know the brisk one that made my eyes run so much I couldn't see when the birds came, I gave up. So I moved on venturing out behind the house to immortalize the shadows through the birch trees.
It's really hard to walk in so many layers of clothes especially if your snow pants are a tad too tight. To alleviate that situation I stood on the back steps and took a shot or two. Then I waddled back through the garage with the intention of taking some wonderful photos of the front of the house in our winter wonderland. Seems reasonable enough if one just stands on tip toe to see over the piles of snow that have been removed to keep the driveway clear. There I was face to face with the piles and I realized that they were nearly as tall as I was, so I would definitely have to climb over them if I wanted shots of the front of the house. Well, not to be deterred, I scaled the piles. They were crusty and fairly firm. Then I put one foot down on the other side and collapsed into snow that was nearly hip deep.
What a sight that must have been as I disappeared over the crest of the pile with a squeal, camera lifted high with one arm to keep it out of the snow. I was alone out there in the sunshine; Greg and Kanti had gone to town. I wondered momentarily if I was going to be able to find my feet without damaging the camera, or whether I would be stuck in the snow until Greg came home. I managed to swim back to the snow pile and clamber across to the civility and safety of the cleared driveway.
At that point in my little adventure I thought it would be prudent to remain on the driveway and not venture off into the pristine snow again. I decided to be content to take photos of the beautiful scenes along the driveway. I vowed to enjoy my adventure in the sunshine even though my fingers were becoming stiff, my tears were freezing on my cheeks from the wind, and my snow pants were restricting blood flow. Then the vehicle appeared in my viewfinder. Greg and Kanti had returned. I'm not sure which one of them looked more dumbfounded as they slowed to a stop on the driveway beside me. Greg just asked flat out "What are you doing?" Kanti simply sat perfectly still in the back seat of the vehicle studying me as if I was an alien.
I suppose my little adventure in the sunshine was rather alien, given that I don't think I have walked outside except in driveways and parking lots for over two months. It probably didn't help that I had so many clothes on that I looked like some queer version of the Michelin man. However, I am here to tell you I survived and there are a few photos to share, but I probably won't venture out again until spring unless I buy snow shoes and an avalanche beacon so Greg can find me if I fall into the snow banks.
Totally love this post....I giggled when the clear picture popped into my head of you stuck in the snowbank....too funny!
ReplyDeleteGood one Joy and love the pics! It really was worth it wasn't it?!?
Gerda