On Saturday morning, the snow was falling in big, heavy flakes. So, I called Tag and Caeli, and we set off for the farm and pond across the road. But, when I skied up a slight incline, I ground to a halt.
The wet snow clumped under the scales of my skis. So, I stopped frequently to remove the clumps.Skied. Removed clumps. Skied.
Eventually, I returned home with two tired dogs.
But, it was a pretty morning, and the snow was falling in big, heavy flakes. So, I called Mickey and Ben, and we skied the harvested corn and bean fields. It was flatter ground, so I stopped less frequently.
We returned home, wet and covered in snow.
It rained Saturday afternoon. Then the temperatures dropped and the wind picked up speed overnight.
On Sunday morning, the snow was crunchy on top and granular beneath the surface. But it was snow -- and a chance to ski.
The wind and rain had coaxed the remaining leaves from the trees, making for a pretty pattern.
Except for a few birds in the fence rows, I saw no wildlife. I'm sure the crunchy sound I made scared them away.
And the wind rushing across the fields made the last quarter-mile feel like a mile.
But I'm grateful that when it snows, I can step outside, clip on skis and go. That always makes up for the less-than-perfect snow.