It felt like a Sunday drive, and, of course, it was. I'm referring to Sunday drives that our family used to take back in the 1950s and early '60s.
I'm sure it was the deer along the roadsides or standing on hillsides in beautifully managed forest settings. At one time, we saw about 8-10 trot cross the road in a single line ahead of us.
Bill suspected that someone in that area probably feeds the deer and that they were maybe headed to the dinner table.
Our family drives "way back when" took us to Montana, where "counting the deer" minimized the possibility of three kids fighting in the back seat of the Ford station wagon. Those trips---always complete with a box of bacon thins to be carefully doled out---usually started around March.
So, yesterday's February trip to the peninsula area of Priest River was a little early for Sunday drives, but the back roads were cleared enough after last week's heavy snow dumps for us to drive through the area northeast of Priest River fairly easily.
Now, getting out of the pickup to take some of those photos was a different story as the ice pack was slick, slick, slick. Some of the scenes were worth taking my life in my hands, though.
The snow is deep in peninsula land, but sights along the Priest River were filled with photogenic opportunities, especially horses hanging out in their fields.
I could not stop clicking at the big chestnut mare taking an afternoon rest under a tree. She's packed, to say the least, and high quality. She wasn't so sure about hanging around for a portrait, but deep snow keeps horses from dashing off through it all.
As an aside, I saw that very situation yesterday morning when I came out of the barn. Lefty was pointed south about ten feet away from the nearest hay pile and not moving. What really concerned me was that he was resting one of his hind legs.
So, I went into the barn yard, carefully made my way through the deep, crusty snow and picked up his leg. No swelling. No wounds. Nothing.
He continued to stand perfectly still for a moment while I kept asking him what was wrong. Finally, apparently feeling confidence that I was there to help, he slowly continued walking. Each time a leg sank deep into the snow.
Lefty was A-OK. He had just started out on a simple journey across his barnyard, only to discover it would be a laborious task. He looped around, came back toward the hay pile and soon resumed eating his breakfast.
Even horses are thinking twice before setting off on a stroll. So, I was able to snap several photos of the pretty chestnut mare and then we moved on.
The Appaloosas standing around their hay pile----remained true to any horse's form by displaying their curiosity as soon as I stepped from the pickup. They even put on a little show with ears up and tails in the air.
Our Sunday drive brought back lots of nostalgia for me, and have a load of that packed in my mind along with the photos---it was a great trip.
I'm really looking forward to this next week's Sunday drive which is sure to be equally loaded with nostalgia and probably even another horse or two. Stay tuned.
In the meantime, Happy Monday. It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood.
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