I’m writing this column in the middle of the second snowstorm of the weekend, hunkered down and planning to not go out until I have to.  I hate driving in snow.   I’d rather look at the snow out my window than my windshield.  The first snow that came added up to about a foot and it was pretty heavy.  All my shrubs and small trees are bending over, and some just look like lumps. 

I always worry about the big Norway spruce in the front yard in a snowstorm; is this the storm that will bring it down?  No, not yet.  It is so tall that the upper branches catch the wind, and most of the snow got knocked off.  I have pictures of the tree back in the early 1900’s, so I know it is over 100 years old.  I can only imagine what storms it has already withstood, including hurricanes.

Under the spruce and across the yard is the straight-line track of a fox.  I’ve seen foxes out there several times, coming out of the woods or running across the field.  This overgrown yard must be a paradise for them.  Someday, when I get up the courage, and energy, to tackle some of the overgrown areas, I’ll probably be ruining some excellent fox territory.  I’ll like it cleaned up, but the mice and birds won’t.  There will be fewer seeds, and fewer places to hide from the foxes. 

Time to go out and clean off t he steps, again.  It’s easier to do it a few inches at a time.  I actually like shoveling snow.  Everything is so clean and white, the air smells fresh, and the cold is invigorating, at least for a while.  About the time I start getting cold, my back gives out, or vice-versa, and it’s time to go back in again.