A Walk in the Snow…

After the ice storm in Texas the temperatures adjusted fairly rapidly and by the time I had returned to the shelter of Hideaway a thaw was in effect.

The sound of ice cracking in tree branches and water running off the roof indicated that even if it wasn’t warm outside, at least not warm enough for shirt sleeves, it was below freezing.

So I put on my boots, donned a hat and set off to search for what remained of the snow in the secluded spots of the lake.

I found patches safely tucked away off-road and under the protection of overgrowth and small evergreens,


untouched by all but the robins who flew off in a flurry of flashing red, panicked as I stepped in closer to get my shot.

A stone bench held captive its snowy cushion keeping the frozen bird bath company while I, a cold onlooker, surveyed the slippery slate pointing to the deserted retreat before moving on with a shiver.


Snow, carelessly daubed around dormer windows, suggested a crackling fire inside and like the Little Match Girl in Hans Christian Andersen’s short story, I am carried away by my vision and can almost taste the hot chocolate of my drink awaiting me at home.



I caught sight of a hatchling snake, lured from its nest by the sunshine the day before and struck by the sudden drop in temperature from 70 degrees to 28 all in a night.


Frozen in a flash,  good and dead!

Time to go home.

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