Walkway available. This is what it looks like when we drive (or I walk) to the bottom of our street. No, we can’t just continue straight down to the lake. There are more houses and another, busier cross road between us.

Up we go. I’m inclined to get back home. That really is a hill that leads to the house that I call home with my dear wife Karen and our cherished rescue mutt. It sits to the right, past that last tree. I always tend to show the images down toward our lake view.

Main road emergency. Down came the mailbox for the business to my left, I note as I get toward the conclusion of a neighborhood walk that included a stretch on the main road to our house. I wonder how the box got knocked from its post as I walk on.

Behind the scenes. No, I would not want to walk behind the stores in the alley that separated the housing neighborhood and business zoning on this leg of my neighborhood walk. Nice fence, though.

Dirt sticks. Snow sure is pretty and white when it first comes down. And then it lasts and lasts and isn’t so pretty anymore. That’s what road sand and salt looks like pushed to the curb …

The neighborhood triangle, almost cleared. On one warmish day in our part of the world, I dared venture out in the neighboring blocks for a January walk. A lot of the snow had melted away from a bit of a thaw. But not all. And the snow and cold returned quickly. Nevertheless, I’ll stretch out…