Thought it would be fun to share some of my documentation photos of the season's first snowfall. Especially the above being so similar to the hazy green view of the same thing at the opposite point in the year. Yesterday's predicted precipitation time frame was cut in half and so I declared the storm a dud at 8 inches. But then a second snow band started adding to the mix around 4 in the afternoon. And that one's been active until 20 minutes ago. So it's quiet and white and timeless outside. Winter's clearing her throat - letting us know she's about to take center stage.
If you look closely you'll see the uphill road dips and then rises to a stronger slant of incline. This is a steep hill to walk and consequently it's an excellent cardio workout. But not when the whole thing gets layered with impacted snow, ice, snow, ice, ice.
Last night right before I went to bed I watched the wind blowing snow from the top deck railing. Was amazed the difference the slight elevation made because nothing was blowing off the fence gate or sheltered-by-fence picnic table. When I got downstairs around seven this morning I learned J. was told by his boss that he might as well work from home again today. That gave me a back-up for my snowfall estimate. We agreed on 14 inches.
Since it was so early in the day and there are some miles to go with neglected chores and incomplete organizational upgrades here in the house, I didn't linger a lot while taking these pics. My venture outside wasn't to commune at length so much as it was to silently address the snow (you are back. I am grateful. Please blanket the ground safely and securely as much as you can in your natural season) take these pictures and put seed out for the birds. A mixed flock surrounded me as I walked away and they all descended to the rocks. The chickadees flying close enough to hear their wing flutters rhythmic and strong in my ears; the titmice circling noisily overhead along with jays while silent wary cardinals watched it all from the shelter of pine boughs within the adjacent volunteer windrow.
Until this point in the yearly cycle I generally let myself sit in this chair for a little while to watch them feed and interact with each other. Now I regret not pushing myself that one last extra quarter mile to carry them into the dog run over the weekend. But there's always the January thaw...and I did get the two little garden strips by the porch's walkway mulched while the first flakes of the first snow band fell.