(One of the posts I wrote on my Swell 24.7 blog in my previous life as a gift store owner in the busy tourist town of Provincetown on Cape Cod; posts that are grouped here under the category What Else Is Swell?, and are generally about life in Provincetown, life as a retailer, our fabulous dog Jack who sat outside the store for well over a decade, and other random things that grabbed me at the time.)
Jack loves the snow.
I mean he really loves it.
I don't know if it's the clean, fresh smell or the softness on his paws or whatever, but even if there is only a dusting he prances around and gets all bouncy and happy. Which is exactly what he did this morning when we woke up to barely a 16th of an inch of the white stuff. And given that he is 15 there isn't a whole lot of prancing and bouncing so it makes us very happy to see him acting all puppy like again.
All three of us thoroughly enjoyed the early morning snowy prettiness as we wandered the trails through the forest by our house. And somehow the sight of snowflakes clinging to tree branches and sticking to pine needles never ceases to arouse oohs and aahs, no matter how often you see them. But this winter we've hardly seen any so the oohs and aahs were probably more enthusiastic than the amount of snow really warranted.
And personally I thought a lot of it looked like naturally formed Andy Goldsworthy's (who is one of my most favorite artists and if you like nature and/or cool stuff you should really check him out). Like these two:
Yep. Those are my boots at the very bottom.
And when we got home Jack went to sleep on the back door step, on the icy white stuff. Because, like I said, he really loves the snow.