It didn’t take long after the holidays for me to remember that during my growing up in New England years I had always hated January. Gloomy gray days looming endlessly ahead, with nothing to look forward to but more gloomy gray days. This has been especially evident in my recent photos, which aren’t intentionally black and white. It’s just that this is it. It’s what we’ve got. And in reality with the snow falling it was prettier than this looks. This is the view from my son’s front porch, and on other visits I’ve taken beautiful sunset pictures from this same spot. It was a four hour drive to get here, and one weather report from Tuesday had insisted that there was a ‘wall of white’ coming, so I was especially happy to have arrived ahead of the snow. But arrive it did, just in time for photos.
Back on the Cape I had noticed that Ozzie’s footprints in the mud had been preserved after he was gone, and I took this picture.Maybe that’s why I noticed this as I walked from my car into my son’s house. A footprint of another kind. Human, and barefoot in what I had to assume was the slush. What crazy person walks outside barefoot in the slush? That would be my granddaughter. I only wish I’d had my phone with me to take a picture before the snowflakes blurred it a little.
I was out for pictures for a little while, but then I thought that Flash had a better idea, and I joined him by the fire. My feet were only slightly less cold than if I had been out there in the slush barefoot. If the fact that the snow plow was just here means anything those footprints are totally buried now.