After weeks and weeks during which I envied all y'all's tales of snowstorms, we are finally having our own. It makes me so happy. A good storm wakes me up.
Thursday snow fell all day, wet but not slushy, with no wind: the kind of snow that clumps on pine branches and changes the color of the world. It was perfect snowman snow. The kids and I spent the morning constructing a veritable giant which -- just like the giant up the beanstalk -- succumbed to the wiles of a small boy. We tried to make an igloo, too, but hadn't enough snow for a roof; we settled for a fort and hid from the neighbors.
Friday the kids had daycare. I stayed in the house with just my job for company and listened to snow fall onto the roof with every squirrel's movements -- ka-pow! -- as startling as an explosion. I heard each car as it passed, crunching snow; I heard my neighbors' footsteps. Thursday during the snowfall everything got quiet but Friday was loud.
My in-laws' Camp Sherman house is like a den, as I said; it protects its inhabitants from the outside. My house is different. Mine is a modern house: it lets the outside in. Thursday the trees drooping with snow seemed to reach inside. Looking up through the skylights I see the sky through tree limbs just as if I were standing on the forest floor. It's not an old-growth forest far from humans; it's more like a campground with neighbors 50 feet away. Hello everyone! Isn't this wonderful?
2 comments:
I like it! :) Ours is almost gone now, but sounds like there is more on the way. Woo-hoo!
Sounds tremendous. We've had a lot here the last couple of days, but little chance to get out in it (aforementioned sick child). Which is too bad, because she's incredibly excited about it.
Post a Comment