Eleven below. Snow depth 22 inches.
I hope you are not tired of the snow, our winter is not yet over. Before moving to the Alaskan interior I wondered many times what it might be like to live in a climate where the snow would come and stay. Would it seem unnatural to me, or grow wearisome? Sometimes you have to try a thing to find out how it fits you.
This winter’s first snow flurries arrived September 29, and for the past five months our world has been white. I cannot say that life here is free of difficulty; teaching is never easy. But the snow has been a blessing to me; it is my antidote against the day’s troubles.
I treasure my daily walks home. There is much to see and learn from the ever changing face of the snow. Yesterday the new fallen snow lay in soft mounds but today their tops have been sheared into anvils by the wind. I know every track along my path home, know where the rabbits like to run. The snowshoes leave large floppy footprints that seem funny to me, like Charlie Chaplin footprints. I check them everyday to see how time and wind have altered them. The snow two nights ago followed by today’s wind have removed almost every trace of their existence. Maybe my rabbit friends will pass this way again and leave me more prints to watch.