Snow Bridges

It was a very snowy winter. So much snow fell that year that it created bridges across the creek that ran through the valley below our house. Some of these snow bridges were thus in name only - they couldn't hold much weight and collapsed readily. Others, however, created real, usable pathways from one side of the creek to the other. 

Smidgen in the snow
Photo by Mary North Allen

Smidgen, our small black dog, could cross almost all the bridges, and she scampered back and forth, bounding through the snow like a little black ping pong ball, perhaps hoping that if she stayed in the air enough of the time, her feet wouldn't get so cold. Duncan, the collie, couldn't leap so readily, and he trudged more slowly through the deep snow, stopping to sniff interesting scents. Forty pounds heavier than Smidgen, fewer of the bridges remained intact when he ventured onto them. I, the next heaviest, experienced the snow more in collie fashion than in little black mutt fashion. With trepidation, I would step onto the bridges that Duncan had crossed. I didn't want to land in the creek! When I was able to cross a snow bridge successfully, I was triumphant. That fleeing architectural structure, with its ephemeral footing, had held me up and sustained me. And only when I succeeded in crossing would my older brother Tom follow, and if he succeeded, we knew we had a true triumph of winter engineering beneath our feet.