(no subject)
All the snow on the roads has melted, and today a couple of us took out the dogs with the summer wagons for the first time since the fall. Everywhere I look I see signs of spring--a butterfly outside my window this morning, and a little bunch of grass sticking stubbornly up through one of the remaining piles of snow. The grass was special. It's the first real live plant I've seen for close to eight months, and I had a strong urge to take lots and lots of pictures of it. I didn't, because there were dogs waiting to be harnessed, but I plan on finding and admiring it again tomorrow.
By the edge of the fjord it's hard to remember that the snowbanks were considerably taller than me just a few weeks ago, but it's easy in the mountains. I'd barely driven the dogs for ten minutes before crossing my first frozen river, and Sognsvann, the large lake just a twenty-minute walk from school, is still covered in snow and ice. All of the dogs were more comfortable in the coolness of the higher elevation except for Froy, Vidar's personal bird dog. She has practically no fur and is a real riot to watch from the sled. While all the other dogs lean their heads forward and trot determinedly, Froy prances along with her head up, looking around and sending her skinny awkward legs flying in every direction with each step. When every other tail is straight out, her's is wagging maniacally, and she get's so excited before the downhills that I bet she'd do somersaults if the harness allowed it.
This Sunday a man named Stein P. Aasheim is coming to talk to us, and I'm super excited. He's this big explorer and wilderness expert who's best known for taking his family (including two daughters aged 6 and 14) to spend the winter in a small unheated trapper's hut on Svalbard, and keeping up a blog while he was at it. The blog got famous, he wrote a book, and the book is awesome... I've read it twice, and I didn't even know I was gonna meet the guy. This should definetely be good.
By the edge of the fjord it's hard to remember that the snowbanks were considerably taller than me just a few weeks ago, but it's easy in the mountains. I'd barely driven the dogs for ten minutes before crossing my first frozen river, and Sognsvann, the large lake just a twenty-minute walk from school, is still covered in snow and ice. All of the dogs were more comfortable in the coolness of the higher elevation except for Froy, Vidar's personal bird dog. She has practically no fur and is a real riot to watch from the sled. While all the other dogs lean their heads forward and trot determinedly, Froy prances along with her head up, looking around and sending her skinny awkward legs flying in every direction with each step. When every other tail is straight out, her's is wagging maniacally, and she get's so excited before the downhills that I bet she'd do somersaults if the harness allowed it.
This Sunday a man named Stein P. Aasheim is coming to talk to us, and I'm super excited. He's this big explorer and wilderness expert who's best known for taking his family (including two daughters aged 6 and 14) to spend the winter in a small unheated trapper's hut on Svalbard, and keeping up a blog while he was at it. The blog got famous, he wrote a book, and the book is awesome... I've read it twice, and I didn't even know I was gonna meet the guy. This should definetely be good.