Poetry Of Spirit And Light: Old Man Winter

One hour past midday azure skies and full complement of calories from brother Helios do their best to disguise the frigid conditions draped over the Llano Estacado plain. Mr Cooper and I recognize resistance is futile. We bow to the allure of snow-covered environs and head into the prairie. The thermometer is stuck at seventeen degrees Fahrenheit. A lively westerly wind fraught with chills near zero degrees punishes our advance. We persevere and soon the magic of the landscape abates the physical discomforts of reality.

I saunter along game trails and stop often to marvel at the artistry of snow, wind, vegetation, and light. Nature’s handiwork inspires poetry of spirit and light. I aspire to capture the mood of the prairie on this chilly winter afternoon. Photographic images are my medium.

While I tarry, Cooper frolics on the blanket of white down. He’s on the prowl for any wild denizen willing to play. Tracks along trails entice his senses. He soon finds himself in hot pursuit of an elusive rabbit. Chest deep snow piles are not a deterrent.

Further down the trail reality creeps into my joyous adventure. Inattention to terrain leads to several stumbles into snow covered prairie dog burrows and refreshing dives into virgin snow. The burning sensation of painfully cold fingertips get the better of intentions to create artful images of the idyllic winterscape. I can barely operate camera controls. I should have worn gloves. It’s time for Mr Cooper and me to ease our shivering shadows out of the Llano Estacado tablelands. We head for shelter. Old Man Winter has won this skirmish.