Snow clues
Windy, snow falling.
Here's a mystery from Wednesday night's snow: I found footprints walking from out of the woods (not just woods, but underbrush of brambles and thorns, making for awkward walking) behind the house and ending at the fence behind my big shed, where the prints (huge boots) turned around and walked back to the woods (and brambles and thorns) again.
I examined the prints, pretending I was Nancy Drew.
Clues:
1. Huge boot prints from boots big enough to belong to a Sasquatch.
2. The walking man had fallen down: there were deep glove prints beside his boots, one a splayed out hand and one a fist.
3. The walking man didn't hang around: his prints reached the fence behind the white shed and immediately turned back.
Unresolved:
I do wonder why someone would hack his way through a thicket in the dark, without even a pathway, to make his way (falling down, too) to a fence. Maybe he planned to keep traveling, and the fence stopped him...
I thought of calling the police, but how silly it would be to say I tracked footprints in the snow.
Officer Cuel would look me up and down and see me for the sort of nervous woman who calls fearfully when she hears rain on the roof, thinking it's a robber.
It's snowing hard and the ground is white. Maybe he'll return, and leave more clues.
If he does, I'm calling Officer Cuel.
(Here is my bedroom this morning, with snow falling steadily outside):
Here's a mystery from Wednesday night's snow: I found footprints walking from out of the woods (not just woods, but underbrush of brambles and thorns, making for awkward walking) behind the house and ending at the fence behind my big shed, where the prints (huge boots) turned around and walked back to the woods (and brambles and thorns) again.
I examined the prints, pretending I was Nancy Drew.
Clues:
1. Huge boot prints from boots big enough to belong to a Sasquatch.
2. The walking man had fallen down: there were deep glove prints beside his boots, one a splayed out hand and one a fist.
3. The walking man didn't hang around: his prints reached the fence behind the white shed and immediately turned back.
Unresolved:
I do wonder why someone would hack his way through a thicket in the dark, without even a pathway, to make his way (falling down, too) to a fence. Maybe he planned to keep traveling, and the fence stopped him...
I thought of calling the police, but how silly it would be to say I tracked footprints in the snow.
Officer Cuel would look me up and down and see me for the sort of nervous woman who calls fearfully when she hears rain on the roof, thinking it's a robber.
It's snowing hard and the ground is white. Maybe he'll return, and leave more clues.
If he does, I'm calling Officer Cuel.
(Here is my bedroom this morning, with snow falling steadily outside):