Yesterday’s snowfall was significant, not because it amounted to anything, but because it hadn’t happened in so long. This was the first real snowstorm of 2014, and there wasn’t much in December either.
I walked the dogs to the ditch in the evening to see how the place looked with a dusting of white, but it had already melted to mud. Sticky mud. I scoured the ground for remnant flakes, and instead found little green leaves sprouting out of the ground. I am not sure what this plant is, yet, but I growled at it.
Winter is a time for complaining, you see. When it’s cold, I complain about the cold. When it snows, I wish it would melt. When it’s warm, I complain that we haven’t had a winter, but when I see green plants sprouting in January (gulp!), uh, I think that’s bad news.
The mountains got about a foot of snow in this storm (or so I hear) and were still snowy and white, off in the distance. Closer, the contrast between the red coyote willow, silvery sagebrush, pale green rabbit brush, and yellow grasses made for a bright palate of muted winter colors in the fading light. A quiet end to the day.
Likeable thing #5: The ditch’s winter colors look great with mud.