I can't say that it was unexpected. Every news channel had reported the same thing: Something cold and wicked this way comes. Two, maybe four, inches of snow were predicted for my neck of the woods. I stocked up on groceries, same as everyone else in town, and bought extra bird seed. By mid-morning, seven inches of snow had fallen on the hilltop.
We have a large songbird population on the hill, but it didn't take long for the blackbirds to arrive. Like my mama says, "Blackbirds have to eat, too." Quite a few Red Winged Blackbirds gathered on the platform feeders. These birds have a reputation for being bold, but, aside from quarreling with themselves, they left the cardinals alone.
If I step near a window, the blackbirds swoop off into the trees, and there are quite a few trees on this hill.
As the snow came down, my husband got a wild hair. I wasn't surprised. He thinks it's a badge of honor to drive during a blizzard. He knew his truck wouldn't make it down the steep, curvy driveway, so he put his truck in macho gear and drove around the backyard.
Then, down the hill.
Two drainage ditches line the driveway.
He drove into one, and his truck would go no farther, marking his first official snow-wreck.
Defeated and depressed, he trudged up the hill, looking as if he'd wandered from The Revenant.
While he thawed, Bandwidth cooked a Boston butt.
All day, the snow fell at a slant. I stared out the windows with a childlike wonder. What is it about snow, I wonder? Does it summon memories of school closings and sledding? Happy, carefree times. I couldn't help but notice that a rose was still blooming. I wasn't willing to go outside and risk falling, so I took a few pictures from inside the house.
Finding beauty in winter is something I like to do.
Finally, with snow still winging down, I took a moment to enjoy the Blue Hour, grateful to have electrical power and city gas (no more propane). Grateful for the food in my cupboard and warm flannel sheets.
I hope you are warm and snug.