Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

Snow has been falling in fits and starts over the last day here, barely enough to stick to decks and ground. This morning it seems to be falling with purpose. I love waking up to fresh snow.

One of the things the dogs and I miss about Idaho's winters: lots of snow. Feet deep. Months long. There's nothing like running on freshly falling snow, dogs by my side. The snow quiets the rest of the world, makes it go away - like living in our own wilderness snow globe. All I hear is foot falls and breathing - mine and theirs - muffled by that special hush of the falling snow gently contacting trees and ground, accented only by the occasional whoosh of a small heap of snow sliding off a tree branch to marry the snow on the ground and ravens calling out their own astonishment with the scene. Fresh snow brings out the inner child (and puppy) in us all, refreshing our sense of wonder at the beauty of nature. And let's not forget the fun of discovering footprints in the snow - deer, elk, wolf, fox, coyote, turkey, raven. The prints delight my eye while teasing the dogs' noses.

Okay. It's much tamer, here in the city. But fresh snow still makes us giddy and happy.

Finn and Meadow enjoying snow on the deck at dawn, noses raised, smelling...?

Still smelling. Must be some interesting smell wafting through the air. More snow? Solar butterflies signal their happiness with the snow in the background.

Within two minutes of my taking the photos above and returning inside...it starts snowing again! Clearly both Meadow and Finn could smell it coming. Wish I had that ability. Maybe I should offer their services to local TV news weather forecasters?


Meadow gives me an "I knew it!" look. She loves snow, letting it fall on her.

Perhaps the only part of Meadow's body that ever feels the falling snow is the tip of her nose. In Idaho, there were times when the snow was falling fast and furious, and I'd look out in the yard to see two lumps - Maia and Meadow, curled into balls, completely covered. I'd try to convince them to come inside. They'd give me withering looks, as if to say, "Why? This is awesome. You should try it!"

Finn's coat shows every flake.

Finn, with his thin coat and lack of undercoat, can enjoy the snow only briefly before needing to shake if off and seek some warmth inside. When we run, he's fine - generating sufficient body heat with movement; in fact the snow helps keep him from overheating while running. But I never find him curled up outside, nose to tail, letting the snow gently fall on him. That's for thick-coated malamutes.

Rebecca WallickComment