I spend weeks dreading the first snowfall. “Ugh,” I think, “the jackets, the boots, the wet paws, the slippery roads, the shoveling, oh my lord, the shoveling!”
But then when the snow does come, it’s really not so bad. In fact, it’s quite lovely. This year, it came so quietly, in big chunky, movie-set style flakes, and quite literally, put a hush on the city.
The dogs love it, and the chickens don’t seem to mind. I’ve read that chickens are snow blind, and won’t walk on freshly fallen snow because they can’t see. Not true of my girls. They came barreling out of the run and straight into the snow.
See? Didn’t I tell you? Nothing cuter than chicken paw prints in the snow.
I’m totally envious. I am reaching that tail end of “enough of Fall bring on snowmen” season.
It’s funny, isn’t it? I’m always ready for the seasons to change, even if it means colder weather is coming. I wonder how I’d cope living in a place that doesn’t have all four seasons. I think it might be strange living in an eternal summer. Then again, I could do without the shoveling.