Winter Wonderland

Well I guess it was inevitable. It was bound to happen at least once this year. Yes, I'm talking about that four letter word-snow. The funny thing is, we came from Wisconsin and I really enjoy snow. I am an out doors enthusiast. My wife and I enjoy winters for the scenery, the wildlife that seems more active in snow, cross country skiing, the beauty of the silent snow slipping through the boughs of the trees on a quiet, windless day. The peaceful, sucking sound of a calf on it's mother, not a care in the world except a juicy mouthful of sweet milk. I really like those days when every sound seems muffled by a fresh blanket of snow. Some of the best snowy adventures we've had as a family have been in the woods just after a snowfall. God's picturesque beauty at it's glorious best.

My, how things change. My perception has changed because now I work in a grocery store. When snow is predicted, the frenzy for food begins. It is a mad dash to the store to find the stores needed to sustain a person for the month long trial of sitting it out. It is my chosen vocation that has soured me a bit on the wintery fluffy stuff. If there is anyplace I'd rather be on a snowy afternoon, it is here on our farm. Then I could take in all the aforementioned joy.

Don't get me wrong. I understand. Things are different here in southern Missouri. Folks don't handle these conditions like they do up north, and that's OK. We've been here 10 years and I find myself getting more and more acclimated to the weather here. I like it. What sours me is the sour faces and general displeassure that accompany the shoppers. They rush, therefore, I rush. Frankly, I'm pooped when I get home. Today, however, after receiving around six inches of snow, I was able to come home a little early. I needed to take care of the barn roof. I didn't want the weight of the snow to force me to replace it yet again. I just did that a couple of weeks ago. So, I raked it off.

Then my family and I went for a walk. Our daughters wanted to show us the snow-grandparents they built with their cousins. My wife took some lovely pictures of the scenery and the carrot nosed grandparents and enjoyed the smiles of our kids. Their smiles reminded me of youth. Now, I'm not old. I'm 38 and counting. But, it reminded me of the days of my childhood in Wisconsin. With the sleds, snowballs and slushies. My, it was nice. Then we came home and I milked the cow. The inside of the barn was the quietest I can think of. The only sounds were of grain crunching and milk squirting. Kind of peaceful. Then the girls came in, quietly, as if they sensed it too. I let them each, (7 and 5 years) have a try at the squirtgun. When we were done, the girls went back to the house and I transfered Lucy to the calf pen so her young one could get the remainder of the milk. I fed the others and watched as they chomped their hay. Then I walked past the calf pen and stopped a minuet to watch. The little critter had milk all over his face and dripping from his chin. Again, the silence was wonderful. The only sounds were the occasional crunch on the hay from momma and the suckling sound of her calf. This put a smile on my face and I praised God for His creation. I went to the house flat pooped, but a good pooped.

Here are a couple of images from our day here in the Ozarks. Enjoy.

A tiny, Tuffted Titmouse at the feeder.

The scene to the path that leads to the

grandparents house from our back yard.

I love the way the snow sticks to the trees.

The cousins enjoying a wintery "dog pile" during the

storm. Notice our border collie in the background.

That's Boomer, he loves the snow and will fetch snow balls.

The snow-grandparents.