Jaci Dawn

When I arrived home last night, there was a little snowman waiting for me by the front door. unfortunately, my camera couldn’t make it out very well in the dark, backlit by the front porch light & I was too tired to try to be creative.

The neighbor kids (17 or 18 years old) made a big snow man. I didn’t think there was enough snow to do that, but it was just that good compacting stuff (which is why it turned so quickly into ice on the roads, no doubt). Even as tired as I was, it was fun to listen to them laugh and dance to their radio as they rolled big balls of snow around.

This morning when I went out, I was not just thinking about how nice it was that most of the snow was gone from the main roads or how slippery the slush might be getting off of our hill, I was thinking about the joy of snow. Because I really do like snow. I just don’t like to drive in it in Portland where they are not prepared for it and everyone panics.

(Note: yesterday was not because of Portland panic. It was merely something that turned from pretty, white, fluffy to compacted wet ice suddenly and without much media warning. Even experienced snow drivers were helpless against it. And people abandoning their cars in the middle of road lanes didn’t help much.)

Anyway. Back to snow.

I saw tracks in the snow. It was still a little dark, so my camera didn’t pick them up very well. My first thought, because of where they were placed, was that it was the eight-toed cat that I am constantly shooing out from under the bird feeder.  I like the eight-toed cat and he has a regular little path from our hours to where ever it is that he lives. (I do not like the black-and-white cats from across the street. I shoo them a little more strenuously.)

That’s not a cat foot print. The camera didn’t capture the whole outline of the little hand-print in the snow, but it is not a cat print.

A back foot and a front paw.

I mentioned the prints to Don tonight and he said, “I thought I saw raccoon prints out there.”

A little raccoon because the eight-toed cat’s tracks were not much smaller.

His tracks were almost side-by-side with the raccoon’s, but so very distinct from them. you can’t tell that he has extra toes in the paw print, but I know he does. I’ve petted him. I don’t shoo him away when he isn’t bothering the birds. I like him.

I took a photo of Murphy’s paw print, too. No ballerina, he stomped right through the snow.

There’s something comforting about finding little footprints in the snow.

There’s something comforting about the snow being all melted from the roadways, too. But that’s yesterday’s post.