Thick snow on triaqua trail with Willem; Exploring the woods 9
Having shoveled out the pathway to the cars and some of the dike, we conferred with our neighbour about the snow removal for the year. He's going to plow our driveway and the dike into the pond lane for us whenever it snows. Wonderful! NOw I won't have to worry about Willem having a heart attack or something!
We got walking sticks and his hat and walked down to the pond. The 8.5" snow is a lot of snow everywhere. It dragged the painted nylon fabric down and ripped it almost off one side, so I ripped it off the post at the other end. Willem helped me roll it up and put it in the tipi.
We walked on the clothwalk to Serenity Dippity Pond. The snow packed up against my feet as I walked, creating large snowballs the shape of my feet with all the snow in the way as I walked.
The pond area was magical. The alders were heavily laden with snow, four inches on each branch. It was hard to see the stream or pond through them. What a beautiful place. If I'd been alone I would have stayed and sat in a chair for a long time taking in the scenery. The pond was mostly covered with snow, but part was open water alongside the stream at the narrow far end.
Willem didn't want to take the clothwalk to Iceberg Pond in case we got wet. As it was the snow was up past our calves. We didn't need water in the bottom of the snow!
We headed back to Fiddlehead pond. I still hadn't hung a hammock in the alders alongside that leg of Triaqua Trail. I must get to it!
After walking slowly, double stepping to make a smooth path, Willem seemed ready to return to the house, but I headed down the snow-buried clothwalk to the pond at the base of the hillside that surrounded us. I didn't think about how uneven the pathway would be after the snow froze hard later tonight as I walked along, clods of snow bouncing off my boots to the side.
We relaxed at the secluded pond. Willem put one of the tall red plastic Adirondack chairs in a good place and I lay in my hammock. Naturally as I sat down the hammock pulled the trees it was attached to, shaking the branches. Snow pummelled me. I had on a shorter thinner skirt so it wouldn't drag in the snow, but the snow that fell into the hammock with me rolled under my bare legs and proceeded to burn them, or so it felt.
Our footprints in the snow had soggy grey slush in the bottom of each of them. I walked on the high side of the fabric beneath the snow, making new deep footprints.
As we arrived at Fiddlehead Pond, we again marvelled at the cracks in the ice. Were they from the warmer springs beneath the ice melting it on this warm day? There were two holes with spider-like cracks in the pond, perhaps over two of the springs.
We sat in the chairs in Jopi Tipi and watched the wind begin to drop the snow from its branches.
We got walking sticks and his hat and walked down to the pond. The 8.5" snow is a lot of snow everywhere. It dragged the painted nylon fabric down and ripped it almost off one side, so I ripped it off the post at the other end. Willem helped me roll it up and put it in the tipi.
We walked on the clothwalk to Serenity Dippity Pond. The snow packed up against my feet as I walked, creating large snowballs the shape of my feet with all the snow in the way as I walked.
The pond area was magical. The alders were heavily laden with snow, four inches on each branch. It was hard to see the stream or pond through them. What a beautiful place. If I'd been alone I would have stayed and sat in a chair for a long time taking in the scenery. The pond was mostly covered with snow, but part was open water alongside the stream at the narrow far end.
Willem didn't want to take the clothwalk to Iceberg Pond in case we got wet. As it was the snow was up past our calves. We didn't need water in the bottom of the snow!
We headed back to Fiddlehead pond. I still hadn't hung a hammock in the alders alongside that leg of Triaqua Trail. I must get to it!
After walking slowly, double stepping to make a smooth path, Willem seemed ready to return to the house, but I headed down the snow-buried clothwalk to the pond at the base of the hillside that surrounded us. I didn't think about how uneven the pathway would be after the snow froze hard later tonight as I walked along, clods of snow bouncing off my boots to the side.
We relaxed at the secluded pond. Willem put one of the tall red plastic Adirondack chairs in a good place and I lay in my hammock. Naturally as I sat down the hammock pulled the trees it was attached to, shaking the branches. Snow pummelled me. I had on a shorter thinner skirt so it wouldn't drag in the snow, but the snow that fell into the hammock with me rolled under my bare legs and proceeded to burn them, or so it felt.
Our footprints in the snow had soggy grey slush in the bottom of each of them. I walked on the high side of the fabric beneath the snow, making new deep footprints.
As we arrived at Fiddlehead Pond, we again marvelled at the cracks in the ice. Were they from the warmer springs beneath the ice melting it on this warm day? There were two holes with spider-like cracks in the pond, perhaps over two of the springs.
We sat in the chairs in Jopi Tipi and watched the wind begin to drop the snow from its branches.