Bell Cedar graveyard buried

The snow from Thor lightened overnight, but it never stopped entirely, and at daybreak, it increased in intensity. I guess the old Norse god decided to switch from ball-peen to sledge before putting down the tools. I'd clearly have more shoveling to do, but before I took on that task, I put on snowshoes and headed uphill to the Bell Cedar Swamp preserve. It's a great place at any time of the year, and I wanted to see how it did as a snowshoe trail. The quick answer is that it was just about perfect. If I'd had more time and a compass—one afternoon lost in the swamp was enough—I would have mushed into the heart of the frozen wetland, but I wasn't packing direction-finding equipment, so I opted for a shorter trek: just as far as the graveyard. The deceased didn't mind my intrusion and many of the marker stones were themselves buried. The only sign of life was a Goldfinch that stormed uneasily between the shelter of the snow-covered evergreens that ring the burying ground and the crevices in the rock wall boulders. The poor bird seemed frantic as it searched for a safe harbor in the storm. I think even the dead would understand.