The first real snowfall of the winter started this morning as it got light. After awhile, I had to go out. My close-to-home walks usually happen on the Coal Mines Trail, a rails-to trails project just north of my little neighborhood. The trains used to carry coal from the mines, but now it’s a wide gravel path along Crystal Creek. There’s not much crystalline about Crystal Creek (Shit Creek, Nancy calls it) any more–it’s crammed into a narrow channel between the railroad grade and the bottom of the hill, and goes through culverts to get to its eventual destination. But sometimes I flush ducks during my walks.
I’ve still been thinking about looking, which started with my last post. Where does my eye land? What does it find interesting? How does it change with the seasons? I notice that it goes from macro to micro. Right now, I want to look close up. Today I looked at rose hips with caps of snow. Dried leaves still clinging to twigs. Hazel catkins rolled up tight. What gets covered with snow is removed from sight till spring. Or at least till the weather warms up. I brought twigs home to draw. I want to mix the colors of the rose hips and the almost black aspen leaves. The sight of the aspen trunk stopped me in my tracks. I always think of the bark as white, but against the new snow, the shades of gray are so subtle.
So much to pay attention to! The snow has stopped. The sun has come out, and water drips off the roof.