The forecast called for a possible dusting of snow, and while I secretly hoped to see some (snow that quickly comes and goes is my favorite), I had my doubts. Here in central North Carolina, forecasting snow is particularly tricky. It all depends on the temperature and the timing of the front.
This morning, it was rainy and cold, and before long, sleeting. I made sure the bird feeders were full (I set more suet outside yesterday afternoon when the temperature was merely cool and brisk).
I had things to do at the old house, but really wanted to stay home and hibernate. It seemed a good day for it. Mom agreed, so we settle in to watch an old movie I had never been able to finish.
Halfway through, Mom hit the pause button and I peeked outside. Big, fat, wet flakes were falling. I scrambled to find my camera and something to focus on, but the weather was too quick for me. A few birds, however, were still long enough for me to snap some pictures. These are the best.
Two-thousand seventeen has been a busy year for us, with all the moving around. I relocated to West Virginia for five months to take care of Mom, while my husband worked on assignment in South Carolina. On weekends, we met in the middle to house hunt. Our old place wasn’t practical any more.
In between doctor and hospital visits, we found a new house. Bill moved onto a new job site, and in August, Mom and I and her cats moved into the new house, bought with her in mind. We’ve been learning to live with each other again, and working on settling in, ever since.
Some days we find a lot to laugh about, and on others, we move to our respective “corners,” but we try our best to make things work. Bill was home this week, and after I finished working on an online project, I went outside to try to talk Mom into taking a walk. Bill had beat me to it. I found him escorting her through the woods.
She had a great time viewing the fall colors, being “back in the woods,” and managed the dips and hills in the uneven ground much better than I thought she would.
I went back to the house to grab her walking stick my brother crafted for her, along with my camera. Some of the trees have lost their fall foliage, but others have just joined the show.
We came in and ate some lunch, then Mom and I went out for another look. She sat and took a rest while I marveled at the color all around us.
I read this week that the Japanese use a term we loosely translate as “forest bathing” to describe a relaxing time in the woods. I think it’s a great term, as our souls were soaking up the beauty of all those colors today.
Mom said she has had enough walking for a few days, but the trees are not far from the house. I bet I can talk her into another session of forest bathing over the weekend.