A new snowfall today

Today, I awoke to a white Wonderland again; then a sound I mistook for rain but instead was snow like miniature hail falling fast and hard on the deck. There is a cold wind that kicks up its heels and bangs the rockers against the boards and temporarily turns my blood to ice. The thick screen of clouds shrouds the top part of the mountains like netting over a baby's bassinet and I feel very near to God, as if He has reached His hand down to replace what has melted off too soon and reinstate winter that had never really gone, only pause for a few days, as if nature held its breath and has now exhaled in a powerful gasp. It reminds me, as well, to slow myself down and just breathe, to make a conscious contact with all that I see, hear, feel, and to acknowledge that God is at work in the world around me.

For the first time in days I hear the sound of the snowplow on our hill and feel the crunch of fresh snow under my feet. It is time to take the long-johns out again and the double socks and boots. I will wait for the snow the let up, as well as the winds, before I attempt to shovel outside. Pesky the squirrel has braved the cold and come for his breakfast at a very early hour. I hadn't, as yet, put his feeder out, but as it is already filled from the night before I soon remedy that. He jumps down to the trees when I come outside but is soon back to eat with gusto before the birds steal the tastiest treats.

I believe the snow will be with us most of the day and possibly through the night and I plan my activities to coincide with the weather. To live up here you must learn to accommodate the rhythm of the seasons and better yet, to be conscious in your appreciation of nature. So today, I will work on my writing, my greeting cards, and on my computer.

Unusually, the snowplow has made several passes on the road, trying to get the snow ever higher on the berm and to widen the road where it long ago disappeared from sight, leaving a one-lane path down the middle. The quail and a variety of birds are having a dig fest in the snow, uncovering a banquet of birdseed and leaving a calling card of tracks imprinted on the freshly fallen flakes behind them. Gutsy, the big gray squirrel, hasn't been out directing traffic of late, running off the competition for every kernel of food, but Pesky has company outback who acted quite bold. Could it be our front yard friend?

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