Walking by Inner Vision presents:

From Lynda’s Journal  –

“A Wintry Tale” (memoir)

by Lynda McKinney Lambert

Lynda launched, “Walking by Inner Vision Blog” December 2009.

BREAKING NEWS TODAY: A Wintry Tale

Published:  (Memoir)

by Magnets & Ladders:

Active voices of  writers with Disabilities.

 Fall/Winter  Edition, 2023-24

A WINTRY TALE, MEMOIR
BY LYNDA MCKINNEY LAMBERT

Dusky light seemed to flow into the house like an old friend reaching out to greet the three of us. Our daily morning ritual is a leisurely walk along the wooded ridge overlooking the creek. Our dogs, Miss Mitchell, and Rocco were anxious to explore our familiar rural path this morning, regardless of the seasonal challenges.

Rocco, our furry little Pom-Sheltie dog, is the first one that people usually respond to when they see us. “Oh, I love the little fluffy dog, he looks just like a teddy bear!” I like to call him, “Fuzzy Bunny.”

Rocco bounced out the door this morning into the brisk day. His long silky tail waved in the bitter wintry breeze; it curled up over his back like a waterfall. He did not need a leash because he understood his boundaries and he usually stayed with me for our morning walk.

Miss Mitchell is quite a contrast to Rocco, as she walks beside him. She is a lean, long-legged terrier. Her short white coat looks even whiter next to Rocco’s deep black and tan body. When people ask about her, I usually say, “She is a TERROR.” Miss Mitchell must wear her red leather harness and stay on the leash because she just never understood that we have boundaries. On those rare occasions when she slipped out the door and ran off, she dashed around the neighborhood like a Banshee flying through the night sky on Halloween Eve. She ran a race with the wind, back and forth, across the two roads near our house. She made wide circles around every house on the road. I saw only fleeting flashes – quick explosions of a white dog darting about in ever widening circles. She moved so fast her brown spots were invisible. Once that happened, all I could do was wait for her to finally come back home. In fact, once she realized she was free to run, she never recognized her name. Obviously, she had no clue that she was in danger.

Mitchell and Rocco became quite excited by the frolicking fun in the snow. They sniffed the air and looked around for fresh deer tracks. Mitchell held a pose that told me she was looking for something in the woods. She stood perfectly still, one front paw lifted and curled in a frozen position. It must be something big, I thought. Her slender face and dark red-brown eyes pointed towards the frozen, ice-covered trees. This stance always made me a little nervous because I did not want to encounter a bear in any season. I certainly did not want to see a deer in the late fall because the males could be dangerous. I have been chased out of the woods before, with a large buck stomping his feet and snorting on the path just ahead of me. I was cautious now. I knew that Rocco liked to chase a deer deeper into the woods if he had the opportunity to do it. On several previous occasions after a chance meet-up with a wild deer, Rocco immediately began to chase the deer. When he finally returned to me his long-haired body trembled with excitement. But today, no bear or deer in sight. Mitchell soon began sniffing, and we kept going down our path.

On wintry mornings when snow covered our landscape, crisp air was pierced by the loud calls of a lone crow gliding high above the tops of the trees. A couple of cars drove by on the main road as we stomped through the wet snow. Finally, we three early morning travelers turned around and headed back up the hill to the house. It always looked magical to me because it is a black house. Each time I stop to think about it I feel like it hovers at the top of the silvery snow-covered hill. I often felt like I was walking in a dream or in the mythical land of Narnia where it is a perpetual winter. That image made me smile because I love winter. I walked with my thoughts focused on the beauty of this day.

I must have looked especially strange because I wore my tall rubber “Wellies” to get me safely through the deep snow drifts. Since this is a rural area and no one would see me walking through the woods, I was also wearing my long lavender nightgown under my purple plush bathrobe instead of a winter coat.

Suddenly, frisky, impulsive Mitchell jerked me into the center of a snow drift that was higher than my boot tops. My long flannel nightgown caught the snow as the three of us launched into the drift. Heavy snow surrounded me with shocking wetness against the bare skin above my boots. My bathrobe flapped in the wintry coldness that blew up from the creek bed. I tried holding up my snow-laden nightgown, but the snow blobs stuck fast. Icy snow clung all around the inside hem of my flannel nightgown as I plunged headfirst down the hillside into the meadow on the ridge overlooking the frozen creek.

I barely recall the short second, I felt my right boot slip beneath the snow, and I was thrown down onto my face with my hands extended outward above my head. My legs apart, the toes of my Wellies dug into the drift thrusting my face deeper into the snow. Mitchell quickly turned around to see what was happening when she felt the leash pull her to a stop. Fortunately, I held tight, and was still laughing as I staggered back up onto my feet.

It happened so fast I could never have prevented this fall. It was painless. I began to laugh aloud. I hoped my husband was not looking out the window. I did not want him to see our morning plunge into the newly fallen snow. But my desire for secrecy was soon shattered when my husband greeted us at the kitchen door. He was laughing and so was I. We laughed together as I realized he saw me rolling out of control, head down, as if I were on a fast-moving sled pulled by a frantic white dog. I was completely covered with snow. I giggled as I came through the door and I announced, “Here come the snow bunnies!”

Winter Storm at River Road Studio. Photo by Lynda McKinney Lambert.

–

 ©Lynda McKinney Lambert, 2023. All rights reserved.

Read MORE of Lynda’s winter-themed poems in her chapbook:  first snow, published by Finishing Line Press. Available from the publisher at:  https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/first-snow-by-lynda-mckinney-lambert/

Buy Now: first snow, by Lynda McKinney Lambert

Have you purchased my NEW BOOK?

‘Tis the Season for gifting great books to friends and family…

Lynda McKinney Lambert

Author of Walking by Inner Vision: Stories & Poems;

first snow, a poetry chapbook; Star Signs: New and Selected Poems; and

Songs for the Pilgrimage, a collection of poems and stories.

I am Looking Forward to 2024

My next book –

Each Day Holds Some Small Joy:  Haiku Poems, 

is scheduled for publication

on April 1, 2024.

www.lyndalambert.com

My Mission Statement:

I reveal what is lost, forgotten, and  unseen.

Hebrews 11:1

“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for,  the evidence of things not seen.”

<<<<<LMcL>>>>>

Lynda’s Bio:

Lynda McKinney Lambert is an award-winning artist, teacher, and author. During her years as a tenured professor at Geneva College, she taught studio art, English literature, and lectured in art history. Lynda created a travel/study month-long course, “Drawing and Writing in Salzburg” that she taught each summer in Austria, Germany, Italy, and Czech Republic until her retirement in 2008.

Her first public art exhibit was in 1976. Her art is in private and public collections. Lynda’s publishing career began in 1980. She currently has five published books available at Amazon and other booksellers.

She loves tending her flower garden, walking her dog, Miss Mitchell, caring for her SEVEN cats, and being with husband, Bob, who was her high-school sweetheart.The couple have been married for sixty-two years. Lynda and Bob have five children, seven grandchildren and five great-grandchildren.