Sometimes, when they tell you to stay inside, that’s really the best time to be outside. Can’t let a good snowstorm go to waste…not with brandnew winter tires on the car and a willing driver-husband….
Snow was coming down fast and furious. None of those huge, lazy flakes that dance in the air for a while before settling on the ground. No, these were tiny pinhead snowflakes relentlessly hitting the ground like mini bullets. The driving snow severely limited visibility shrouding houses, mountains, animals and trees alike.
Snow was settling on cattle hair but they seemed more intent on munching their hay than being bothered by the wet flakes:
The Potomac River was flowing swiftly under tree branches bowing so low they almost touched the water’s surface:
The landscape was cloaked in grey and white; tall brown grasses the only gift of color in this monotony of snow and fog:
An old grandfather of a truck nestles itself in the snow:
Snow-covered fences silently mark the edges of road and field alike:
A herd of sheep seemed lively and curious and warm enough in their sheepskin coats:
By now, snow had found its way into my boots from stepping into the mounds of snow along the side of the road. Everytime I got back into the car, I laid my frozen hands on the heat vents, still on the look-out for another picture opportunity. The Blue Grass Valley inevitably bestowed the final and most haunting scenes: