Sunday at Seven!

Sunday is the golden clasp that binds together the volume of the week.

                  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I am a little spoiled I have to tell you. See this tractor with the wonderful man (My Hero) out there blowing the snow out of the long, very long lane way? He is blowing a path to the bush so I can get down there because he knows how important it is to me. This was Saturday morning and he spent the better part of the day doing this.

Sunday morning I was sitting at my kitchen table after an intimate Valentine’s Day dinner out the night before where I had apparently consumed too much coffee. OK that is not exactly true it was My Hero’s Mom’s 89^th birthday party and the night was full of great conversations, laughter, excellent food, a huge room full of family and friends, and most importantly love. My Mom and My Hero’s Mom are women that carry more strength with a smile than any other women I know and I truly admire that. It was so nice to see My Hero’s Mom smile and watch her blow out those candles.

 In between the laughter and conversations of this huge crowd I imagined this was that romantic dinner for two, My Hero at my side and there was hand holding so that is good enough for me.

Back to Sunday morning. I thought since I was up that just maybe I would be able to get out in the wilderness and explore with my snowshoes on so I sat and waited till there was some light before venturing out. My Hero walks into the kitchen and I volunteer to go feed Annie her bottle it is 6:00 he has no problem with that , there is a farm show on TV he likes to watch.

Since that driveway is so smooth and pretty I will be able to drive the Jeep down to feed Annie, and then head into the bush cutting out a lot of time. I want to catch the sunrise in the bush hopefully from the top of the ridge. I run downstairs make that bottle up, and grab my gear, meaning snowshoes, camera bag with “Leo” tucked safely inside, I get dressed quickly and off I go. It is light out but there appears to be time to catch that sunrise.

Annie as usual had no problem draining that bottle; she follows me to the gate I have to hop over. I am trying to put my snowshoes on in the deep snow on the other side of the fence while Annie tries to reach me, her head through the rungs to tug on my coveralls. Bye Annie I will be back soon I have to catch the sunrise.

I continually turn and look at the snowshoe tracks in the snow, I love that. I was trying to rush but the snow was so deep and I struggled through it, I could feel my legs burning with the strain and my heart racing, I decided to slow down and thought that if I capture the sunrise fine, if not I will enjoy the journey surrounded by more beauty than I can imagine anywhere else and I will be satisfied with that.

I can hear what sounds like a jack hammer, I recognize that distinct sound it could only be one thing a Pileated Woodpecker, I scan the tops of the trees and see nothing, and I know he is on the other side of the fence. I can hear the Chickadees chirping and I do get to see them flitting about. I almost forgot what my goal was as I make it to the top of the ridge; I could not get through the deep snow so turned around and followed the deer tracks down to the valley. I will use their tracks now and I am sure they will use mine later. The snow is deep back here so as I look at the deep hollows of snow with deer tracks below I know they are struggling.

I did miss the actual sunrise moment but I came close. It is Sunday morning just after seven and I am surrounded by the most beautiful place in the world. It is going to be an incredible day.

Later