Overcast, almost to the point of heavy fog. The clouds have dipped to a fleeting touch of the tree tops. Grey and ugly, laced with the first snow of the season in our part of the world.
The journey to the foothills is wet. Ridges of slush, ready to suck you unexpectedly from your lane of motion. Visibilities length moves in and out like focusing a camera lens.
A crappy day to take pictures. Opportunities marred by the darkened day, shots through the windows and sporadic explosions of bright sunshine.
Tufts of grass surrounded by white create the illusion of not staying long. Ascending the next hill conjures up visions of Christmas and sledding. The blanket of white rain thick on the ground, only to disappear from sight at the next corner and appear haphazardly from no where a few miles down the road.
The journey to the foothills is wet. Ridges of slush, ready to suck you unexpectedly from your lane of motion. Visibilities length moves in and out like focusing a camera lens.
A crappy day to take pictures. Opportunities marred by the darkened day, shots through the windows and sporadic explosions of bright sunshine.
Tufts of grass surrounded by white create the illusion of not staying long. Ascending the next hill conjures up visions of Christmas and sledding. The blanket of white rain thick on the ground, only to disappear from sight at the next corner and appear haphazardly from no where a few miles down the road.
The road first takes us south. The mountains to the West obscured by the lack of sunshine and blue sky. Snow turns to a misty rain accentuated by the spray of passing cars and trucks.
Holding at a steady at -1C, the temperature leaves lots of room for more snow or the potential for freezing rain and roads icing over as the day retires.
The gentlemanly way to drive is being observed by most who join us on this stretch of road. To the right, cattle and horses graze fields. Their aloofness indicates the storm will pass with little consequence, other than the few motorists ignoring the need to slow down. Outings ending with a quick ditch bound soiree.
The gentlemanly way to drive is being observed by most who join us on this stretch of road. To the right, cattle and horses graze fields. Their aloofness indicates the storm will pass with little consequence, other than the few motorists ignoring the need to slow down. Outings ending with a quick ditch bound soiree.
We travel some time before the click, click, click of the signal light announces our deviance from the pavement and its clusters of moving vehicles. Off in the distance, the road flows into the clouded skyline. Hues of blackish grey to almost white encourage us to carry on towards a brightening on the horizon. Hope of sun dashed as we climb the next hill, winding our way southwest.
Hay bales strewn across fields. Dusted with snow. The imagination sees them as giant pieces of cereal dusted with icing sugar. It has stopped snowing. For the moment.
Higher we climb. Clouds and fog shroud the hills we pass through. Off in the distance a break shows the sun reflecting on the wet road. Will it be there when we arrive? Its warmth removing the whiteness left earlier in Mother Natures trail of wintery reminders?
Click, click, click. Another turn and once more we head south onto the next to last leg of the journey. Still no mountains to greet our vision, only streaks of sun showers finding their way through the clouds off in the distance.
Higher we climb. Clouds and fog shroud the hills we pass through. Off in the distance a break shows the sun reflecting on the wet road. Will it be there when we arrive? Its warmth removing the whiteness left earlier in Mother Natures trail of wintery reminders?
Click, click, click. Another turn and once more we head south onto the next to last leg of the journey. Still no mountains to greet our vision, only streaks of sun showers finding their way through the clouds off in the distance.
Snow squalls meet us between the hardly worth mentioning blue sky sightings. Passing through them to the next stretch of uninhabited road.
A glimpse of the higher foothills to the West, lasts but a fleeting moment. The wind pushing the next batch of clouds in to cover their existence.
To the East and a short two lanes away, the sun momentarily glistens off the wet willows and poplars that are lucky enough to have not yet been stripped of their golden life.
Familiar land marks fill the mind with anticipation. The realization the trip is almost over. The day’s destination is near.
Click, click, click. Brrmda. Brrmda. Brrmda. Crunch. The welcoming sound of the cattle guard and gravel under the wheels. Slowing to accommodate the mudded road, watching for cattle and maybe some wildlife.
Brrmda. Brrmda. Brrmda. That's number two. Brrmda. Brrmda. Brrmda. Number three.
Click, click, click. Brrmda. Brrmda. Brdrmda. Number four reminds us we're almost there. The sight of the buildings welcome us from across the field.
Click, click, click. Brrmda. Brrmda. Brrmda. Crunch. The welcoming sound of the cattle guard and gravel under the wheels. Slowing to accommodate the mudded road, watching for cattle and maybe some wildlife.
Brrmda. Brrmda. Brrmda. That's number two. Brrmda. Brrmda. Brrmda. Number three.
Click, click, click. Brrmda. Brrmda. Brdrmda. Number four reminds us we're almost there. The sight of the buildings welcome us from across the field.
Click, click, click. Brrmda. Brrmda. Brrmda. Last cattle guard.
We are here!
We are here!
Have you every taken the time to write down the things you see and do when you are out for a drive? It's interesting how in tune you become to your surroundings, the weather, animals and sounds. Everything you record becomes the opening for another story.
Ann Edall-Robson
Author, Photographer, Lover of Life
Author, Photographer, Lover of Life
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