The Aging Process

I have never firmly established who they are, but they say that cheap wine doesn’t age well. That’s largely true, but when it comes to aging poorly, I think snowmen might be the worst. As a case in point, I give you Filipa, the snow-woman Desiree made the day before yesterday. By yesterday afternoon, the sun had reduced Filipa to a mound of snow.

I’ve posted some images of Filipa. I’m going to miss her standing on the back deck, but the grass below will be happy.

Filipa, Day Two (Morning)

Filipa, Day Two (Afternoon)

Filipa, Yesterday

—Mitchell Hegman

Filipa The Snow-Woman

Yesterday, while some folks in the country were scampering about in swimsuits—and possibly less—here in my corner of Montana, we were wading through nearly a foot of fresh, heavy snow. I woke in the morning to find pine trees transformed into snow ghosts. This particular snow proved perfect for making a snowman—more accurately, a snow-woman.

Technically, Desiree undertook the project of making the snow-woman. I mostly sat inside, drinking coffee, occasionally pressing my nose against the glass at my back door to check on her progress. I did help by hoisting the midsection snowball.

I’m pleased that Desiree has embraced our winter world. You’re not going to escape winter if you live in Montana for any length of time.

Desiree named the snow-woman Filipa.

Early Morning Ghost Trees

Desiree Rolling the Biggest Snowball

Desiree Holding Filipa’s Head

Desiree and Filipa

Filipa’s Face

An Apology

While soaking in my hot tub, it occurred to me that a bit over a year from now I will be embracing the age of seventy. Wow. That’s somewhat mind-boggling. Back when I was in my teens, I thought I would be old when I reached thirty. Now that I’ve reached this point, I think my teens owes my thirty an apology.

—Mitchell Hegman