Tag Archives: Snow
Earlier this morning before the sun had finished rising over the hills, the scene invoked Homer’s “rosy-fingered dawn.” Still pretty, isn’t it?
Vic found Halvor on Pisca-Dory this morning when he went into the shop to bring Halvor his food. Was it mutiny, or did Halvor make the climb simply because he could?
A heavy snow is falling, assuring us that the solstice doesn’t necessary mean we’ve turned the winter corner. Effie loves wandering in her snowy realm.
Vic had to convert our tractor to its snowplow identity to plow our driveway this morning. It’s hard to tell which–the snow or the plow–Cat Halvor disliked less. In any case, the red tabby is out on an errand.
Effie pauses to contemplate the wondrous snow that suddenly came to her dominion while she slept comfortably, as always, indoors.
Snow fell last night with more determination than it had yesterday afternoon. The seasonal variations of the basalt hills in our viewshed are always striking, and, to quote an old friend, well worth the price of admission.
Take heart Effie; it’s a snow day everywhere! There’s snow in the front yard, and even across the street!
I like the snow–but where are all the bugs?
Ah, well. . .I am like the Snow Man in the poem by Wallace Stevens that my Mom likes, who beholds “Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.”
Very large flakes of dense, gushy, large, wet snow are falling. The falling snow provides a refreshing sight, enabling me to wish we could move to the Galapagos Islands, so that I might become a curator of tortoises, and I could quit reading the news.
As always, there are intervening considerations.
A comforting snow–like a blanket–is falling and rapidly deepening.
The snow nurtures our dormant aspen.
The snow encourages camaraderie among our hens.
A quick stolen kiss on the porch!
“Where is everything?”
And, the snow revives Effie’s sense of awe and wonder.