Bundled Up

I didn't put many decorations out this year for the holidays. A little of this and a little of token that, and of course the window candles, de rigeur if you live in a colonial. Since I neglected to put away my steel family in the fall, I made them red mini mufflers. Sorta cute. They may just have to wear them until Spring.

First Snow of the Season

It started as an occasional flake, and soon grew to a light flurry like dandruff scratched by taloned fingers against the leaden sky. Within a few hours the earth had cooled enough for the snow to start to blanket the yard. It continued throughout the day and into the night. I awoke to a marshmallow world. The prediction was for 6 inches and I would say we came in at 5 1/2. It is always lovely the first time.

Wordless Wednesday

My World - still snow covered

The joyous anticipation that the mention of that snow brings in December gives way to bitter disappointment, I would even say resentment, in March.

To see other (and hopefully warmer) parts of the world, check out My World Tuesday

Keep the faith

Underneath all of that is...

All of this.

Wordless Wednesday

Determination

"I know there are seeds under here. I saw the birds eating them just the other day."

Wordless Wednesday

My World

Anytime after Thanksgiving all bets are off on whether or not we will have snow on the mountain. It can be raining 6 miles away in Town Center, and snowing to beat the band up here. In fact, most people do not visit me until Easter or if they do, they bring their jammies. (I keep the guest room ready at all times.) I hate winter, but I have to say it is beautiful on the mountain in the snow. This road borders one side of my property.

Squirrel in the Snow

Oh My, look at that frowny face. I spotted Mr. Grumpy in the backyard when I was out photographing birds in the snow. He looks completely miserable, poor thing. He's the only squirrel I have seen today. No doubt the other fifty-eleven are tucked in somewhwere.

I'm Gonna Go Where it's Warm

I slid down the mountain this morning, riding the brake the whole way. The ABS shuddered more than once when I hit a patch of ice, black and scary. I clutched the wheel and grimly steered through the skid.

I am so over this winter thing now. I have been a snow-weenie and proud for years. Last May I went to Alaska and vowed to embrace the cold, the snow, the dreaded wintry mix. In Anchorage I bought some extremely cool gloves and hats and some leopard print silk long johns; ready to be stylin’ this year. I even bought a thick luxurious coat in Chicago in early December. All, to no avail. It didn’t happen. I am well turned out, but still hate winter.

And February is always the worst for me. Hints of spring are everywhere. The birds are surprised to hear a tentative spring song come out of their throats. The air occasionally has a hint of warmth to it. The weak sun melts the last of the mounds of snow. But it is all a tease--a joke from old man winter and the groundhog.

Well, I’ve had enough! I am going where it’s warm. I leave next week for South America. Where, may I add, it is summer. I’ll be in Argentina, Uruguay and Brazil. My arrangements are made. My bag is half packed. I have my visa.

Now, if only the snow would only hold off until I fly….

Yellow Gate

On the road down the mountain in the middle of a narrow blind S curve there is a small yellow gate. I drive past it at least twice a day. It intrigues me. It is never open. It has 2 cement steps leading to it and beyond it a path towards a house. The front door of the house matches the gate. No one comes or goes from that house. Yet it is not abandoned or even very old. Why would they have put a gate in the middle of an S curve that cannot possibly be used?

I have stopped my car many times in the middle of the curve (keeping one eye out for cars) and photographed the gate. The shots are clear, crisp, perfectly composed and bad everytime. It has gotten to the point that I slip into the S, roll down the window, snap a few shots and drive on. I do it regularly-both coming and going. There is no reason for this gate to not be photogenic. I don’t get it. It is not ugly. It is like those people that always blink in pictures or turn their faces away.

In the spring the gate and the Forsythia hedge are TOO garish. In the summer the gate shouts out its strident color from the tall green arching branches of the Forsythia. It is not a meek mild-mannered quiet sort of gate. But one that demands attention every time you go into the S. It is almost like a flashing yellow caution light. Perhaps that is why it is bright sunshine yellow. You cannot miss it.

One morning after a winter storm I slipped into the S curve. The gate was surrounded and covered in fresh snow. It looked subdued in the gray winter light. I rolled down the window and snapped a few shots as usual. That night when I got home I discovered I finally had a good shot. Several days later when the snow melted a little, the gate was back to its unattractive self.

Narnian adventure outpost

Did you ever read the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (one of the Narnia books) by CS Lewis? Doesn't this remind you of the lamp post in the middle of the forest?

Batten down the hatches, it's gonna blow

As I bent over to reach the carton of olives from the corner of the cart, I heard from the register behind me, “They are saying 3-6”. I reared up and whirled around to look wildly at the man calmly swiping his credit card. I glared, then quickly turned around. I looked askance at the girl scanning my groceries.

“3-6?”

“Oh,” she said, “I heard 6-10”

I gulped. And looked out the windows at the blue sky.

“When?”

“Sunday night into Monday.”

“6-10?”

“That’s what I heard.”

Isn’t it amazing that when someone mentions numbers, just plain numbers, everyone know exactly what they are referring to? It also makes us anxious. Or, at least it makes me anxious. 6-10 is is not 27 but it is worth talking about. Speaking of which, I gotta go call someone, and get gas, and go back to the store....

Wordless Wednesday

The Kindness of Strangers

Scraaaape.

Scraaaape.

My sister looked up. If you have ever shoveled snow, you know the
distinct sound and rhythm of a shovel scraping blacktop. The room
was dark except for the TV and the multicolored twinkling lights from
the tree in the corner.

Scraaaape.

Scraaaape.

Who is shoveling after dark? She looked at the clock. 8:30. She
pushed back the insulted drape and peering out in the darkness. She
saw a dark form shoveling the driveway at the old man's house next
door. Hmm. It must be his daughter. She looked over to her boyfriend.

"Wanna get cold?"

They both shrugged into their coats, grabbed 2 shovels and went
around the house.

"Want some help?"

The person shoveling stood up. It was not the daughter but a man
from up the street.

"Sure!"

My sister and her boyfriend started to shovel. The man up the street
continued to shovel. The snow was heavy and wet. The 6 inches had
turned into 4 with the rain. It was hard work.

"It is like shoveling cement." The comment hung there in the stillness.

A few minutes later a man from several houses down the street showed
up having heard the sound of shoveling in the darkness. He started
to shovel too. The four strangers worked for half an hour together
in the darkness. They finished the driveway and the walk leading
to the house. They also cleared the sidewalk in front of the house.

When the job was done, they all met at the end of the driveway and
introduced themselves. Strangers, neighbors, and now friends.

Kindness is still alive and well in the flatland.

Wordless Wednesday

White on Red

I woke up this morning to a world transformed. Three inches of snow covered everything. Every twig on every branch on every tree wore a coat of white. The snow weighed down the trees, grasses and shrubs. It was heavy and wet. The red leaves of the maple were a startling contrast to a world made white. I don’t know if I have ever seen snow on autumn leaves.

This is the earliest it has snowed on the mountain in the 7 years I have lived here. If this is a harbinger of things to come, we are in for it!