The Weather Outside Is Frightful
Making it all the cozier to remain indoors, in our warm and hospitable interiors. We are grateful for what we have, the comfort and the quality of our lives. Selecting menus for the day, appropriate to the weather situation; leafing through a new cookbook for ideas and inspiration is more than a little gratifying.
And as I methodically do all those little things in the house in daily clean-up maintenance, the inclemency of the out-of-doors makes everything, our comfort, our privileged lifestyles all that much more meaningful.
The snow is laid down deeply here. As is its wont; for usually - but for the occasional interruption in the norm, when cold is kept at bay and seasonal snowfall disappoints the skiers and children wanting to make snow tunnels - we manage, by the end of the winter season to have accumulated at least a four-foot deep garden of trillions of ice crystals where once was our lawn.
Often, on the arrival of spring and the promise of warmth, I feverishly begin to shovel in reverse. Which is to say, I begin attacking the accumulation of snow gathered in heavy layers on the lawns, to throw it onto the driveway where the sun kindly melts it in much shorter order. That did not happen last year. For there was a relatively scant snowpack, and it melted quite quickly without my intervention.
We did go off for a ravine ramble late this morning, all four of us garbed against the cold and the deep snow. The initial trailhead hasn't been tramped down adequately and it's tough going at first, until we finally reach that point where incoming trails intersect and enough boots have tamped down the snow to make the effort more easeful. It hasn't much changed from yesterday.
For one thing, it hasn't really stopped snowing. Not in great heavy blankets as occurred on Sunday aided by huge gusts of rambunctious wind. But respectably, the snow gently sifting down through the atmosphere, shifted about now and again by a persistent but low-grade wind. It's minus-8 degrees, not all that bad. Button lopes along, sliding now and again in her boots, through the snow-dimpled path.
Riley does his best, his short little legs pumping valiantly away. Fact is, we're not capable of proceeding at much of a faster pace than he is able to, in any event. We're in no hurry. It's not all that cold, and it's quite wonderful to look about and take advantage of the luxury of viewing the snow-treed ravine rather than having to struggle on clogged highways. Retirement has many benefits.
The trees are still burdened with thick layers of snow, although from the upper branches some relaxation of burden has occurred, with high winds whipping the snow onto lower elevations. It's quite amazing to see the contortions that snow layers can take on, as the depth of their layers begin to sag and resemble graceful arabesques while still clinging stubbornly to extended branches.
We struggle through the snow-laden trail, glad that we're not the only faithful ravine ramblers, that there are more boots than ours to trample the snow. As it is, the narrow trail, with its deep sides of untrammelled drifts presents a challenge to our physical endurance, let alone that of our little dogs. We stop often to wait for little Riley to catch up to us, and to rest ourselves. When it's obvious that he's really tired, he gets picked up for temporary relief.
Meanwhile, snow keeps falling all about us. As indeed it continues to do all day. When, later, we drive over to the nearby Home Depot store to pick up a few small bolts, screws and other convenient items needed for repairs, we encounter streets inadequately plowed; plenty of greasy slush requiring care in negotiating the drive.
More snow to come tomorrow, as well. And the day following it. Ad infinitum. Some winter, this.
And as I methodically do all those little things in the house in daily clean-up maintenance, the inclemency of the out-of-doors makes everything, our comfort, our privileged lifestyles all that much more meaningful.
The snow is laid down deeply here. As is its wont; for usually - but for the occasional interruption in the norm, when cold is kept at bay and seasonal snowfall disappoints the skiers and children wanting to make snow tunnels - we manage, by the end of the winter season to have accumulated at least a four-foot deep garden of trillions of ice crystals where once was our lawn.
Often, on the arrival of spring and the promise of warmth, I feverishly begin to shovel in reverse. Which is to say, I begin attacking the accumulation of snow gathered in heavy layers on the lawns, to throw it onto the driveway where the sun kindly melts it in much shorter order. That did not happen last year. For there was a relatively scant snowpack, and it melted quite quickly without my intervention.
We did go off for a ravine ramble late this morning, all four of us garbed against the cold and the deep snow. The initial trailhead hasn't been tramped down adequately and it's tough going at first, until we finally reach that point where incoming trails intersect and enough boots have tamped down the snow to make the effort more easeful. It hasn't much changed from yesterday.
For one thing, it hasn't really stopped snowing. Not in great heavy blankets as occurred on Sunday aided by huge gusts of rambunctious wind. But respectably, the snow gently sifting down through the atmosphere, shifted about now and again by a persistent but low-grade wind. It's minus-8 degrees, not all that bad. Button lopes along, sliding now and again in her boots, through the snow-dimpled path.
Riley does his best, his short little legs pumping valiantly away. Fact is, we're not capable of proceeding at much of a faster pace than he is able to, in any event. We're in no hurry. It's not all that cold, and it's quite wonderful to look about and take advantage of the luxury of viewing the snow-treed ravine rather than having to struggle on clogged highways. Retirement has many benefits.
The trees are still burdened with thick layers of snow, although from the upper branches some relaxation of burden has occurred, with high winds whipping the snow onto lower elevations. It's quite amazing to see the contortions that snow layers can take on, as the depth of their layers begin to sag and resemble graceful arabesques while still clinging stubbornly to extended branches.
We struggle through the snow-laden trail, glad that we're not the only faithful ravine ramblers, that there are more boots than ours to trample the snow. As it is, the narrow trail, with its deep sides of untrammelled drifts presents a challenge to our physical endurance, let alone that of our little dogs. We stop often to wait for little Riley to catch up to us, and to rest ourselves. When it's obvious that he's really tired, he gets picked up for temporary relief.
Meanwhile, snow keeps falling all about us. As indeed it continues to do all day. When, later, we drive over to the nearby Home Depot store to pick up a few small bolts, screws and other convenient items needed for repairs, we encounter streets inadequately plowed; plenty of greasy slush requiring care in negotiating the drive.
More snow to come tomorrow, as well. And the day following it. Ad infinitum. Some winter, this.
Labels: Environment, Perambulations
posted by Pieface @ 4:56 PM
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