What a beautiful sunny morning — all the trees, ground… and cars, blanketed with a foot and a half of snow. It’s 5 degrees outside with a wind chill advisory. But I didn’t know that when I pulled on my ski boots and headed out the door. I strapped on skis and grabbed my poles intending to check out the north forty. A bracing wind smacked me in the face — I should have worn a scarf. Regardless, I was happily off and gliding on the section of driveway Tom plowed. Two maybe three glides, ten maybe fifteen feet, right where the plowed section ends…my skis disappeared. I knew by then it was a perfect day for snow shoeing. But I don’t have any of those.
Snow up to my shins I forged ahead, building up heat as I went. My face took the brunt of icy blasts. After a short while it stopped bothering me. I didn’t notice…my face anymore.
Blazing a trail proved exhausting. I made a nice little track and skied up and down, back and forth several times, then expanded the trail all the way to the creek. Forget the north forty, which is actually a north nine acre field, I didn’t have the stamina to go that far. Reaching the snowy high bank I stopped and took a picture of the creek with ice floes racing each other downstream. Then I turned and took a picture of our barn and house. Good grief. The house is so far away. And most of it uphill. Through really deep snow.
It was a beautiful sunny morning in frigid northwest Pennsylvania.
Florida anyone? I’ll race ya!
I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation…(borrowing from St. Paul completely out of the context of Philippians 4:12)