An Ode to Snowshoeing
A spiderweb silhouette from my homemade woven snowshoes glistened softly on the fresh layer of snow with every step I took against the evening sun. Ahead, the fresh blanket of snow was completely smooth, only interrupted by the protruding grasses along the wetland and trees towering high into the blue sky. My dog, Scout, leaps and bounds through the deep snow with enthusiasm, exploring the new smells of the forest as we go.
I know the snow in the north will not be much longer, so we are enjoying the last of these cold days in the best ways we know how. The places that normally are visited by groups of people throughout the year are now empty and quiet. The cold and snow have driven many people inside, but for me, it is all the more reason to get outside.
A small and mixed patch of forest and wetland lay not far from my house. Most of the year, when the snow is gone, the woods and wetlands are filled with high water and the dry areas are few and far between. In the winter, with the ice and snow, this area becomes a place more accessible to explore. The tall, white patches of aspen contrast beautifully with the evening's blue bird sky, while the resinous winds of a distant pine grove drifts through the wind.
From forest to wetlands, mazes of deer and coyote tracks crisscross throughout the walk, Scout stopping to smell them all. The deer have dropped their antlers recently, maybe if we are lucky, we will come across an antler or two.
The dead-standing trees have piles of large, rotten wood chips below from the pileated woodpecker's search for food throughout the winter. Something about these trees and the woodpeckers that frequent them is an oddly beautiful art of the woods. To watch the woodpeckers on these trees, carefully chipping away the rotten wood, one sees the persistence and perseverance of nature and an artist at work.
On my last walk through these woods, in a small patch of trees in the middle of the wetland, I found a wonderful fallen tree that provided a great spot for a rest. I decided to revisit this place for a while before making the return home. The deer have recently used this island of trees as a bedding ground below a low-hanging oak that still holds most of its leaves. I sat contently, resting my legs from the long walk, while scout sniffed and circled the deer bed until he too laid down for a rest among the leaves. The subtle honks of trumpeter swans grew louder and they flew across the wetlands and overhead. Does it get any more elegant than the snow-white silhouettes of a flock of swans flying high among a rich blue sky?
Looking down at my snowshoes, there are many scratches and signs of wear among the hard ash wood and binding from their many miles over the years. Each one brings me back to those moments across the north and close to home that I have enjoyed so greatly. The snowshoes are a long way away from retirement and have many more miles to go on them.
Scout and I left our resting spot and headed back across the wetland through a new patch of woods to bring us back to where we started. Each step through the fresh snow and into some beautiful new woods. I felt as though I was in the north, my favorite place to snowshoe, but I was only a few miles from town. I realize the beauty the winter woods can have when fewer people are out and about and we can explore the places in our backyards with a new perspective.
Although the snow will likely be gone and the temperatures will rise soon, I will take those worn-down snowshoes out to the woods a few more times while the woods are still quiet and the snow is deep. Putting a few more miles on them before the call of spring has put them on the wall until next year's snow returns.
