A Quick Winter Tromp in the Woods

Over the weekend it snowed, the kind of  wet, heavy snow that sticks to everything.  On Sunday afternoon while everyone was napping and recovering from our travels I escaped for just a bit of time with my snow shoes and enjoyed all trees cloaked in white.  I love fresh snow, even in late winter.  The astounding white is always beautiful.

I still haven’t figured out the art of snowshoeing.  I always thought you were supposed to float on top of the deep snow, but I still sink way down with my snowshoes.  The only saving grace is that  it is easier to get my feet back out of the snow in snowshoes.  Maybe my snowshoes aren’t the right fit?  I don’t know.  They say that snowshoeing is like walking, but my tracks zig zag all over the place and I look like some kind of gigantic monster tromping around with dinosaur feet.  It is not graceful, people.