We were happily walking in light snow when I realized something was hurting my ankle. Surely it wasn’t my sneaker. Leaning against a truck near the café, I saw blood on the shoe and the sock. We stuffed a tissue there and walked on to the creek. John insisted on walking home and driving back to get me. What a beautiful time to enjoy the stream, knowing I wouldn’t have to huff and puff up the steep hill!
John estimated it would take him 20 to 30 minutes to get back to me. There was plenty of time to watch the lazy snowflakes drift down and examine the creek. Splashing ripples were building lacy edges on stones and twigs. It was still well below freezing, although not as cold has it had been. A wave would splash under the ice, slowly building it up along the edge. One of the boulders in the water appeared to be wearing a cape of lace with diamonds on the edge. It’s a shame the lighting was such that it didn’t show in a photograph.
Neighbor Joyce called while I was standing at the creek. She asked a favor, that I’d let her know if the roads were getting bad. It was snowing heavily where she worked. This would be fun, being on snow patrol! An hour later I texted her, saying we had blue skies. In the early afternoon, that changed and snow began to come down in earnest. I let her know it was sticking on our deck, although the road was clear. Fifteen minutes later I said the forecast had the temperature in Waynesville dropping to freezing at 4:00. I wrote, “The New Yorker (John) would say it’s nothing. The Tennessean (me) says cut and run when it’s feasible.”
Joyce replied, “I am on my way home now.”