Ah, if winter could always be like this ... no wind, or at least very little; temperature balmy; why, I could walk forever on these days. Above, I'm approaching the correction line (that's a gravel road that puts grid maps back into whack when the curve of the earth has raised a ruckus with the squares and lines of human mapping) from the farmyard driveway, where you can see the tractor tracks.

Below, I'll turn and walk north at the corner just past the fence. The new house is up that road less than a mile.