The snowshoeing expedition was lots of fun and provided an intense workout, mostly because the snow is much deeper than I thought. The shoes sunk down about six to seven inches, and poor Sophie was in snow up to her shoulders (haunches?), indicating that the snow depth is at least 17 inches. This fact did not dampen her enthusiasm one bit. When she tired of loping in the deep stuff, she followed me, walking in my tracks--and on the back of my snowshoes. This made walking so difficult. I tried holding my skipoles behind me to keep her off my shoes, but it didn't work, so I got more of a workout than I bargained for.

The mountains closest to us, directly to the northwest and not visible from the house, looked so beautiful. Once again, the summits were hazy with snow falling. My next task is to study the U.S. Geological Survey maps and find out their names and elevations. I wonder if there are hiking trails up there.

Sophie and I ventured into the woods using our main trail that runs to the south of the house. When we tired, we stopped and listened. The quiet astounds me. Sophie lay in the snow, ears cocked, nose quivering and we soaked in the scene for a long time. Far, far in the distance, we heard a dog barking, and then a gun shot, closer. Then I broke the silence, just in case any hunter committing the sin of shooting offseason were around. I shouted that I'd drag his lousy hide from one end of Johnsburg to the other if I caught him shooting on my land. There was no one to hear me, of course. That's part of what made the declaration so much fun. Our neighbor to the south has not been here in weeks, so they couldn't hear.