After my snowshoe lumber (snlumber? lumbershoe? snumbershoe?) on Friday, I came home, made breakfast, and set about getting shit done. Thankfully, there was no need for me to leave the house. So I didn’t. Nor would I leave the house for the next 48+ hours except for brief forays onto the deck to get a couple of bird pics, refill the bird feeders, and yell at Lola to hurry the hell up during one of her shit journeys in the early morning darkness.

Having said that, I wish I had left the house rather than watch Tottenham play like they’ve never kicked a ball before. An xG (expected goals) of 0.37?? For fuck’s sake, me and 10 other old, fat, talentless morons could probably get that. Oh well, they’ve still not dropped as low in the table as last year’s 17th place finish, so I guess there’s that. Of course, there’s also still plenty of time for them to get worse.

Monday, I felt well rested and spanky from a weekend of good food, slack, and sloth. And as I started snowshoeing down the snowy trail illuminated by my headlamp, I was hopeful of getting another normal-for-me loop in, of 5 to 6 miles.

I hadn’t done a 6-mile lumber since right before deer season had started, and at about mile 4, I was simultaneously thinking that I had plenty left in the tank and that I should be just be happy with 5 miles and time in the woods before I bit off more than I could chew in the crisp 15˚ air.

Thankfully, a second wave of chill never happened, and as I neared the parking lot and Escape II (Electric Boogaloo) alone in the parking lot, I was at 5.85 miles. So, I stomped right past my car and onto another short little access trail that would circle me back to the lot; 6.09 miles, done, my longest lumber in four weeks.

With the frigid temps and several inches of snow on the ground, there was not much critter action to capture, but after a few miles, I started seeing signs of where the deer were turning up the snow, looking for food, and sure enough, a few moments later, I saw one from a distance, followed by another a short time later. The second deer’s face is covered in snow, and some dirt is on its mouth from rooting around in the leaves.

I also got a couple of shots of a cooperative Bluejay perched in a trailside tree and a Sparrow in the snow. Note that the intro pic of the House Finch was taken on Sunday when we saw a brief glimmer of sun for about three minutes.

***

Despite the slower pace of snowshoeing and cold temps, it was one of those perfect starts to a week. Of course, now, several hours later, every hinge in my old ass body aches from the cold, but I’m sure I’ll find something to kill the pain later whilst folding the Monday laundry and hate-watching Man U (or enjoy watching Bournemouth, whatever it takes). 

Later.