I got a good long walk today, with snow still falling in tiny mean little dry flakes. I walked along the same in the headwaters of the local pond; I've gotten to know the trails in the waste land under the high-voltage wires that cross the town. You don't see much most days, which is OK, because when you do it's worth the trip. (In the spring, one day, I saw a blue-winged warbler and very nearly came unhinged. Another day Joe and I found a beaver's trail and a stick it had gnawed the good park off of.)
Today I didn't see much that was alive, but got good new pictures of the scenery, which still seems too good to be true, in its Frostian/Thoreauvian/Lowellian glory. And I only fell down so hard it hurt once. If I had fallen slower I would have had time to get a hand under me and splinter my wrist, so I'm OK with the way it happened.