Siberia

It looked like it in our local neck of the wood but the temperature proved otherwise (+3).

After a fresh dusting of snow last night the weather had clearly changed. On 'the day after' only my eldest son, Gillean, was up for a daunder with me and the dog this morning. After leaving the carpark we started looking for, and following, shoeprints in the now soft snow. We gave them names like Plus1, Plus2, V, Wave or Square, after the prints the owners of the shoes left in the snow. Prints of small deer, squirrel and rabbit were seen also.

After half an hour or so we decided to go cross country. We enjoyed ourselves ploughing through the snow. Virgin country was crossed and the going was slow. We pretended to be in prehistoric Siberia looking for food for survival and being aware of predators like wolves that could hunt us down. We regularly stopped to listen to the sounds of the forest and the melting snow falling from the top of the trees might, in our imagination, have been caused by dangerous animals who would certainly eat us alive if we were foolish enough to get caught.    

Thanks to our excellent survival skills we managed to get out of the forest alive. We could hear the wolfs howl in the deep, dark forest. It was a narrow escape.