Snow and shadows

Media meteorologists make their livings by whipping up hysteria and broadcasting worst-case scenarios. If they're right, of course, they can calmly give you that "I told you so" look, and if something less than the end of the world transpires, well, they can claim that they just wanted to make sure we weren't caught by surprise. Winter Storm Janus had the potential, we were warned, of dumping more than a foot of snow, and, in places, it did. But in our neck of the woods, we got, at most, four inches of dry, light powder: easy to shovel and a joy to cross-country ski on. In short order, my driveway was clear, so I was able to take a little time off for a jaunt through the forest. It was a beautiful study in light and shadow, and study it I did—quickly. The storm dragged Arctic air in its wake, and I was skiing into below-zero wind-chills. The thin photography glove I use on my right hand was soon overwhelmed by the frigid temperatures, so many pictures went uncaptured by the camera. Perhaps I can do the job the old-fashioned way and simply write about what I saw... as soon as I thaw out.