Making Tracks

It was pretty much a rerun of the day before, but colder in the morning yesterday.  There must have been more snow during the night because I could not find the pan for the wild things' water at all.  The ice was so thick in the goat trough that I could not break it, no matter how hard I beat on it with my stick.  The girls had to settle for nibbling on snow until it warmed up (ha!) later in the day.  The sun did come out, melted the ice on the satellite dish so the TV came alive again, and thawed some of the snow on trees.  As the weight was lifted, one branch would spring up, knocking snow from its neighbors and sending sprays into the air; really quite pretty.

Tracks, and the occasional pile of scat, showed where the wild things had been.  Turkey tracks are interesting in that there is a light, straight line between the prints, possibly from one low toe.  Deer had been in and out of the goat pen cleaning up alfalfa leftovers, and the driveway was a regular thoroughfare as critters and pedestrian fowl made their way to the feeding station under the oak.  The chickens have not ventured out of their coops for two days; they are not as dumb as their reputations would have us believe.  While it would be easier to walk in my own footprints, it is not safe.  The compressed snow has turned to ice.  Snow looks light and fluffy, but I do not think it would make for a soft landing.  That's not the kind of track I'd like to leave.