A White Lion

7 Mar

Snow melted all Friday.  Jay had friends over that evening, and when they left the temperature had risen to over 5oF outside.  Saturday the melt continued.  Hawthorne got so hot during class and afterward that Jay and I agreed I would shear him this week. His is a winter coat and for the cold; above 40 degrees, he is too hot.  I shear him at least three times a year.

Sunday morning it was pouring rain; it had rained all Saturday night.  I had to leave for early service so Jay took Hawthorne for his walk wearing full rain kit.  I thought how happy the chickens would be on the grass under the trees when put out after we came home.  The driveway was totally clear of ice and snow, and muddy.  The creeks were roaring; ice dams forming here and there.  The snow was diminishing.  I could see the top leaves on the eldest hellebore.

On the drive to church the rain changed to ice pellets.  But coming out two hours later:  snow (Snow?!) being shoveled off the church sidewalk.  I had on a light coat; not even a hat or mittens. It had been 40F when I left home! Now a snowplow was at work in the parking lot.

Drove to Ellie’s, changed clothes.  We were to drive to Kathy’s for a get-together of spinning chums.  I had spent a few hours Saturday afternoon making mole (say molay), and was so looking forward to spending time with friends I do not see often.  Shoveled the walkway.  Turned around and wondered if it had really been shoveled.  Monte went out for salt. “I didn’t think I would need any more”!  More shoveling.  The snowplow went by their home twice.

When we left for Kathy’s there were almost 2 inches and counting.  The roads were–not good.  A snowplow went by on the other lane and within a mile there was no way to tell that that side of the road had been plowed recently. Within five miles of our goal, Ellie found a flat parking lot and we turned around and returned to her home.  We ate ambrosia and mole with chicken and corn tortillas for lunch.  I waited for Jay to return home from late service to tell me how bad the roads were out our way.  And to shovel the driveway.   Home about 3.30PM.

It kept snowing.  All night.  Into this morning.

And out the window of our bedroom this morning.  A two foot wide snow lip hanging over the roof line.  Where there had been running water yesterday morning.

Oh, and downstairs?  This:

A bird feeder with a hat.

No school.  Jay called at 8 after he got in: little traffic; he saw people trying to dig their cars out of their driveways full of snow.   Only a quarter of one parking lot had been plowed.  The sidewalk plows at Cornell were stymied, too; the snow was too deep for them.  He fought his way through snow to BTI, through drifts to open a door.  He was the only one there.  Four foot drifts up onto the greenhouse windows.   Twenty-one inches of it reported near here.

It was over my boots on the way to the garage.  Way over.  Wearing snow shoes I only sank down five or six inches instead of 15+.  Hawthorne pretended to be a dolphin, using snow for sea.  Only his back and hind legs were visible when he dug down to the ground.

At the bottom of his prints were icy blue shadows tinged with gray. As if  bits of the blue sky and the gray cloud were snared and carried down trapped in the snow.  The wind was strong enough remove most of our tracks inside ten minutes but traces remained for the return trip, the sharp inside edge that escaped the filling snow a sharp beautiful gray-blue.

 

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