Wednesday, March 27, 2013
A full moon with a bit of snow cover brightens the landscape to the point where I could almost read by moonlight. The extra light brings out the residents, too. Geese honked and scolded most of the night. A raccoon visited my birdfeeders but didn’t fiddle with the chicken pen. Deer stepped daintily through the snow, heads down, looking for bare ground that might produce something for them to eat. The night seemed nearly as busy as the day.
I took a walk shortly before dark last evening. The wind had calmed, and the day, while not warm, was comfortable enough without the biting wind. In winter, evening walks can only be done in full darkness, and now the same walk with enough light to see my surroundings was a pleasure. After dark, I notice sounds more than sights. Usually I stick to known paths, as even with a headlamp footing isn't easy to gauge.
I can’t yet walk up on the ski slopes. They are either still snow-covered or ankle-deep in melting, muddy snow. So for now I confine my walks to the dirt roads and trails. It’s enough that I have daylight left to foray around the mountain. I travel less distance in daylight, paying more attention to the sights like some tourist, surprised by nearly everything I find. I wander from edge to edge of the old road, inspecting this or that or nothing much. It's the same route, but it sure seems a lot different.