Snow Day

Fall comes gradually;

Leaves began to change and slowly flutter to Mother Earth.

Winter, on the other hand, strikes with an explosion.

One day you are walking down a perfectly safe sidewalk,

Driving freeway speed on dry roads

Next morning you wake up to a foot of still falling snow.

Cars slip and slide and can’t make the hill

Spin around on the highway, ending up in the borrow pit.

Excitement and reverence satiate the soul.

We can’t help it.

Jeanette's Photos 

  

 

                 The Snow-Storm
Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven. . .
And veils the farm-house at the garden's end.
Come see the north wind's masonry.
Out of an unseen quarry evermore
Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer
Curves his white bastions with projected roof
Round every windward stake, or tree, or door.
Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work
So fanciful, so savage, nought cares he
For number or proportion.....
To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone,
Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work,
The frolic architecture of the snow.
--Ralph Waldo Emerson

Amy's Photos

"If I were to guess," writes DeLoy, "the birds that like berry trees and bushes that have a topnotch are likely Cedar Waxwings. They are usually in flocks, not singly. Look at them with binoculars the next time you see them to see if they have the distinct yellow tip on the tail and small red wing tips. The color parts look like they were dipped in colored wax."

Phone call around 7:30. "Can you come and help me?" "Yes. Where are you?" I couldn't tell what she was saying so I hand the phone to DeRay and the line goes dead. She was attempting to go to work but no streets or highways were plowed. When a car spins around in front of her on Highway 89, she takes the first road back home. However, she couldn't make it up the hill and that's when she calls for help. While she was talking to us, a man came along with a shovel and dug her out, giving her a push to make it up the hill. She made it this far in the driveway but not into the garage. Snow day.
My erudite brother, DeLoy, writes (in correcting my error of writing "burrow pits"): By the way, the low area along roads where cars slide to in snowstorms are low because that is where they "borrow" soil to make the road itself high, and the roadside pits therefore are called borrow pits, not burrow pits. I learned something new today.