Oh, yes, it came. They said it would, and it did, but not quite as severe as predicted.
The snow started coming down in pinpricks last night, gusting sideways, and when I woke at night, I wondered how the world would change. Daylight revealed a delightful layer of white on the world. Fifteen inches of clean, white snow.
It seemed to stir up the bird population into a feeding frenzy. We watched from the bedroom window, in between cups of morning coffee, as they swooped up and down, to and fro, in pairs. Titmice with their little peaked caps and orange bellies, black capped chickadees, delicately painted sparrows striped in sepia tones, and a pair of cardinals at last. Now that is a scarlet sight to remember– a cardinal in the snow. None of them seemed to mind the incessant icy fall around them.
Snowfall danced around the slender black tree trunks and crisscrossed them at will, yielding to the capricious wind. Here and there, lone forgotten leaves from last summer still shriveled and curled on branches, spots of rust in a monochromism of black and white. They stirred like living things.
The storm waned as the morning moved forward. Finally the sky cleared to a pale opal and only a few lazy flakes frolicked down to join the others. Heaps of white have turned everyday objects into bulky mysteries.
Now comes the work. Three and a half hours of snowblowing for Ernie. An hour of shoveling the deck for me. Hard work, but it feels good out here.
Now the darkness has overtaken the world and the snow glows pearly in the waning light.
The sky arches softly in barely rose, sliding into aquamarine near the earth. Tangles of tree branches pattern across the lingering light, layer upon layer. Light fades from the earth, slowly, and leaves me longing for something more. The old familiar barrier holds me back and traps me in space-time.
