Yesterday morning we awoke to 6 fresh inches of snow. Once the morning chores were completed, and the greenhouse was removed of its snow we went on a hike.
We left via the basement door since all our wet snow clothes from the day before had been drying near the wood stove. Walking out to the backyard we were amazed by the beauty of the newly fallen snow.
Moving on past the chicken coop into the woods we headed up the ridge. Chickens don’t like snow-at least ours don’t. We could hear them moving around inside, but they didn’t even peek their heads out to see if we had any goodies for them.
Walking along the side of the ridge out through the pines dead from beetle infestations is always sort of creepy. Most of the biggest trees have already fallen, but a few snaggy looking ones are still standing like silent ghosts.
Once we came down off the end of the ridge the walking was much easier…
and the views were breathtaking.
I pointed out the wet weather spring to the girls and reminded them it would only be a couple months till it was swimming with tadpoles.
A couple more yards and we could see the Stamey Branch cutting a cold black swath through all the white.
Ever the gentleman, The Deer Hunter gave us all a piggyback ride across the creek to keep our toes dry. Reminds me of the times I rode on Pap’s back as a girl.
The snow had adhered itself to every surface no matter how rough, leafy, or slender.
When we came to the fork in the trail we had to decide whether we wanted to circle back around towards home or continue on up the creek. I said, “Well I have been wanting to go to the tree with the carvings on it.” The Deer Hunter said, “Uh I don’t think so. Do you know how far that is?”
I think he was getting tired of clearing the snow laden limbs for us girls. So we took the fork that would circle back towards Wilson Holler and home.
The woods were unbelievably quiet. I kept hoping we’d see some tracks like we did back in 2010 on a snowy hike.
Of course, the quiet was often disrupted by these two horsing around.
A big tree had been uprooted since the last time we’d been through the area. We all stopped to examine the red clay wall that shown brightly against the white.
Every time I see a root system up and close like this I hope I’ll find some kind of treasure that’s been hidden for hundreds of years.
All the walking made us thirsty, and we took advantage of the snow-covered limbs on several occasions. At least the girls and I did, I think The Deer Hunter was smarter than us and brought his thermos full of water.
The snow was so pretty and the company was good, which made for a very satisfying hike.
The hastily made photo map above shows the territory we were walking in. We stayed away from the high tops and our trail wound closer into the valley were the Stamey Branch gurgles along towards Brasstown and beyond.