The Trifecta

The first day, there was enough snow to ski.  Mary and I took advantage of the opportunity.

Lots of snow in the air makes for and off-white day.
The low mountains beyond are invisible.
Skiing across the lake is not an option.

Far enough for this day.

The second day, there was a lot more snow.  Mary and I took advantage of the conditions with our snowshoes.

Mary is in great shape and not afraid of breaking trail uphill,
which was not for the faint of heart with all that snow.
It was more like corn meal than powder,
spilling onto the top of the snowshoes with every step.

This still life is called,
"Snow-laden hemlock with old guy."

There she goes!.
Time to put the damn camera away and catch up.

The third day, we hit the trifecta.  Copious snow, bitter cold, and high wind.

The lake was completely frozen,
with the wind driving the sub-zero air and abrasive snow crystals
 across the open expanse.
A great day to be alive!

"There is no bad weather," I declared.
"Only bad clothing!"
Attired for the cold, I was ready to go skiing.
"You're nuts!" declared Mary.

The chickadees did not impugn my sanity.
The feeder was filled prior to skiing.

They waited patiently as I finished the job
before I set out, upwind along the lake shore.
Into the wind first is a good policy.
Best to come home with the icy wind at your back.

The goal was the point about 3/4 of a mile away.
Almost there, this is the path to the interior.
The shelter of the trees was appreciated.
Even good mittens can produce thumbsicles!

Can't be sure about the thermometer reading,
but it wasn't far off.

The hemlocks on the edge of the clearing
made reaching the goal worthwhile.

Heading back on the broken trail was a breeze.
30 MPH is much better on your back.

Back out on the frozen lake, a short pause provided an observation. The ridges of the drifted snow perfectly matched the undulations of the low-hanging clouds, as both receded into the distance.

I don't think he noticed.