A continuation of the journey that began on January 1, 2010, recorded in "a year of getting up to meet the day." After 365 consecutive sunrise outings in that year, I couldn't bear to give up the dawn. This blog (no longer daily) will be informed and inspired by the rising light of the morning sun.


Tuesday, March 6, 2012

March, snow, dogs

sunrise:  6:03

In spite of the annoying schmutz on my camera, I will share a few wintry March photos.

Sometimes I wonder if this blog might just fizzle out as the sunrise retreats further and further into the netherworld of "are you kidding me" hours of rising.  Then again - a reprieve is in sight, as daylight savings time arrives in just a few more days.

It has been an odd non-winter in Maine, but March seems to want to make up for lost time.  Even now, I get a little stir of excitement from that magical, snow-tipped beauty outdoors during and just after a fresh snowfall.  It is always short-lived, however, often gone even before most people get out of bed.  I only caught a glimpse yesterday, and the risen sun did its clearing work.

Beauty aside, it's just not the right time of year to be celebrating that particular magic.  I'm ready to move on.

The dogs come alive in snow, and their enthusiasms have helped me to plow through this often draggy time of year.  So I will feature them as a tribute.

Standing still is a challenge, unless all you care about in life is when your human might throw your stick again.

Guster is getting impatient, Clara is long gone, Kate's still vigilant.

I didn't catch it on film today, but when Guster goes out in the snow, he does this little dance, then wriggles on his back on the snow exuberantly.  J said he was making snow angels, which cracked me up.  Now that's all I can think of whenever he does his rolly thing.  Below, you can see him checking in.  That's his other endearing little practice.  After a period of bounding the fields, he sprints back to wherever I am for a little cuddle before moving on again.

Kate's face is an indication of how frosty cold it is outside this morning.  That's what happens when you pick up lots of sticks in snow, with your face, and it's ten degrees out.  You've been warned.

They are fine, good friends, with distinct personalities.  Not sure I'd be getting up and out without them~

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