Snow on cedars

On Sunday, it snowed, but I’d planned ahead and had plenty of hay put out in every pasture. We made sure the water tanks had heaters and all the animals had feed and shelter as best as we could provide. So when the snow finally began to fall about midday I wasn’t to worried. There wasn’t much wind Sunday, it was kind of peaceful as I sat by the fire and watched the snow float silently down. The limbs of the cedars along the fence began to droop as the weight of the snow pulled them lower and lower.

It happened purely by chance, but both of my kids were home and it gave me a warm feeling knowing they were safe and sound. My son and his friend played in the snow most of the day. However, my daughter was content to be inside and stay warm. As the day went by I daydreamed with memories from my childhood.

My grandpa would always take me and my friends rabbit hunting when I was a kid. We’d kick briar patches and brush piles hoping a cottontail would scurry out. Some days we’d just shoot snow birds when we couldn’t find a rabbit or a squirrel. I’m not sure who had more fun, him or me.

Sometimes, I’d build a fire while out hunting in the snow and cook something over the fire. Those little cans of pork and beans with the peel off top were always a favorite. If I was lucky, I’d have a squirrel or rabbit to roast on a spit over the fire.

It doesn’t seem like it, but those days were about forty years ago. As I sat in my recliner watching the world turn from brown to white I could almost smell those memories from so long ago. My grandpa’s coffee thermos and the Copenhagen he always dipped, the smell of fresh snow and damp cedar trees.

I fell asleep in my recliner about midday. I dozed off remembering so much from my childhood. Snow gloves that seemed to always get wet, cold rubber boots and pancakes my grandma cooked on an ancient cast iron skillet. Those were good days back then, it was a good day for napping and thinking of such things.

James Lockhart lives near the Kiamichi mountains in southeast Oklahoma. He writes cowboy stories and fools with cows and horses.