Last year we had a very unusual winter in our little part of the north east. Much to my
dismay, while friends everywhere else, even in Texas, sang “Let It Snow,” I kept
asking “where’s mine” ?
This year, though, the Farmer’s Almanac has kept its promise of a cold, snowy winter
and I am in my glory.
Every window calls me to gaze upon an otherworldly grey and white landscape.
If only they knew, my bees, asleep for now, would probably be so happy to be
missing this chilly day.
Tomorrow we are scheduled for another 12 inches.
The wind blows, the snow drifts. What’s left behind is art that no human
hand can match.
As snow inches its way to the top of my 4′ tall well cover, I wonder if it can get any
Another tall piece, this 5′ tall urn almost disappears from view before my eyes.
Watching the birds is a favorite activity at our house. I am enthralled by the way our
diminutive friends puff up to keep warm.
Ken keeps a path cleared to the feeder. Even though we know that these winter
birds don’t really need our contributions, it feels good to think we are providing
a treat. For us, the reward is huge as we watch a steady parade of fine-feathered
entertainers, tiny spots of color in an otherwise-monochromatic view.
The sun sets and dusk spreads purple over my white world, adding another rich layer
to my winter life.