It snowed during the night...and the temperatures dropped to -5C.
This morning, as a weak Sun filtered through the Trees, I decided a first Snowfall was worthy of a few photos.
I suited up. I have many layers of clothing to put on each day, in order to keep from pushing up the thermostat. All those layers...they keep Arthritis at bay, a little.
It took awhile to grow accustomed to all those clothes...at the end of the day, I feel somewhat like a stuffed sausage. Long underwear seems to get tighter as the day passes. But I wouldn't go without...the extra clothes and underwear are comforting, when Wind howls and Snow blows.
We are expecting another Storm this afternoon. I fear I will no longer, this year, at least, be able to build garden beds. I left my tools under a big Tree, convinced I would have a few weeks left to work...but it's not to be.
Snow which falls will freeze, over and over again. Eventually, I will walk on built up frozen Snow...last year, there was three feet of it. It gives a different perspective to the land.
As I take photos, meandering about in the soft, powdery stuff, I remember my vow to learn to snowshoe. Our property is great for it...there are game animal trails throughout. It is an extremely pleasant hike during the gentler months, but will be largely unavailable during the rest.
I have trouble imagining myself snowshoeing....however, there is a first time for everything. I say this rather defiantly; my vow to snowshoe brings laughter or, at the very least, a gentle smile, from those to whom I have divulged this vow.
My camera lens fogs up...and Wind from the West is rising. The feeble reminders of a Sun warmed land dissipates...gentle dripping stops. It is time to sit by the fire with a cup of tea, and watch the Storm.
And what a Storm it is...the thermometer on the deck drops impossibly quickly. Wind howls through the Trees, taking hunks of icy Snow and hurling them at my windows. The house stands strong against the blasts of the swirling Wind, but I can feel when a particularly large gust hits...there is a muffled booming sound when it occurs, as well.
It would be impossible to take my camera and shoot photos, at this point. Sometimes, I can't see the Trees for the driving Snow. The Boulders and Stones I am attempting to find a common ground with will be covered in softly rounded mounds, which will grow as more Snow falls and freezes.
I suddenly take in, for good and all, the fact that gardening is over for this year. I take another sip of Tea and reassure myself I will find other creative pursuits...inside.
Graham's Mother has given me a sewing machine...a Janome Quilter's Companion with a Quilting Table attachment. The last time I used a sewing machine was close to forty years ago...my mother's.
This one...this machine which sits on the dining table eyeing me with reproach...this one will take some getting used to.
I look at it balefully. The machine brings back memories of sewing clothing which rarely lived up to my mother's idea of perfection...she was a seamstress par excellence...and I was not.
In my youth, I did not have the interest...I wanted to get from A to B without all those seemingly unnecessary steps. Impatience...a trait I have not yet mastered...held sway, at the time.
However...however, as the Storm rages, as Snow finds crevices in the landscape formerly unseen to my eyes, I think of the feel of linens and cottons as they flow through my hands to the machine...I remember how soothing it felt.
And there are newer materials out there now...materials like hemp and bamboo I would like to work with.
It no longer matters, if items I have sown are perfect, in another's eyes. If I am satisfied...I will be happy with its imperfections.
I take another sip of tea...still comforting, still warming my hands and soul.
There are revelations to be found, during a rattling, bone-chilling Snow Storm, when I am held captive inside.
A cup of tea, a Wind and Snow Storm, a warm fire and a sewing machine...I believe it might be a great day.