“Look up at the miracle of the falling snow, – the air a dizzy maze of whirling, eddying flakes, noiselessly transforming the world . . .”
~ John Burroughs from The Snow-Walkers
View from my kitchen window. April 16, 2020.
I can vouch for my Stay-At-Home household in Colorado: we are NOT amused by this snowstorm and the accompanying cold temperatures.
We need sunshine. We need warmth. We need dry streets and trails.
Waaaaaah.
Lots of sunshine here today and I was eager to get outside after two days “trapped” indoors by snowstorm and frigid temperatures. Silly me, I assumed my three menfolk and the dog would share my eagerness. Not so. I finally coaxed Emma off the deck and tried to get a game of chase going in the backyard but, after taking a piddle, she ran back to the deck. The guys stayed indoors, refusing to join in the fun. (Except for when they stepped out long enough to lob a snowball or two at me.)
Well, they missed out on some awesome conditions. Warm sunshine + snow just dying to be packed and rolled into balls. However, the snow was verrrry heavy. Oof.
Eventually, I gave up on creating snow friends and started to play a game of Jenga with myself. Here’s an early iteration (actually, two).
My final Jenga tower was above my head and just as I handed my phone to Zebu to take a picture of me standing next to it, it tipped over. The tower was truly glorious and you’ll just have to take my word for it.
Yes, it’s snowing again in Colorado. At this point in the year, I’d prefer the sunshine and warmer temperatures we’ve had the past week or so, but this storm has it perks. Exhibit A: looking out my window at Rainbow.
Rainbow Dash (so-named in honor of My Little Pony)
As I write this, she’s still out there, content to let the snow accumulate on her beautiful, thick fur.
Cotoneaster. October 7, 2019.
Out my window. February 7, 2020.
Snow fell, keeps falling
blanketing my whole wide world
sky meeting the ground
Backyard. December 24, 2019.
I see a cat.
A thick-tailed, thin-necked cat born of the huge snow storm we had in late November, slowly, slowly melting back into the earth.
Felt a bit stabby
sharp, cold implements lined up
sunshine saved the day.
Just took a 21-minute walk in the frigid cold, gingerly traversing the icy, rutted streets of our neighborhood. The two feet of snow we got earlier this week are gonna be around a while. Today, I’m thankful for the knowledge that this, too, shall pass melt.
June 29, 2018
Blue skies and lily blooms are in my future.
Lilac bloom on May 17, 2018.
The thermometer currently reads 18 degrees. The sky is gray. It’s snowing and blowing, and is forecast to continue like that through tomorrow morning. I try to live in the moment, to be mindful and present in my life. But right now, in this moment, I’m looking ahead to spring and lilacs in bloom.
Fight me, Pema Chödrön.
Deck and red maple tree on October 10, 2019.
Yesterday we had a high of 80 degrees which then swung to a low of about 20 degrees today. We’re currently at a balmy 25 degrees. Hooray?
I’m praying to the goddesses that we don’t lose trees and shrubs as a result of the temperature swing. The last time this happened, many trees and shrubs (including our own) died. And I’m talking old, well-established trees. It was heartbreaking. The only upside to this current situation is that the snow might provide enough insulation to keep them alive. Last time, there was no moisture involved in the temperature swing.
I’m beaming toasty thoughts to the trees and shrubs. Please hang in there!
It’s snowing right now. Two days ago it was 70 degrees. Why must Colorado weather be so erratic? Where’s my sunshine? My warmth? Where has spring gone to hide?
While I await its return, here are some springtime clematis blooms from several years ago.
Spring, please hurry on back!
Thank you!
Love,
Tracy
I’d never heard of “bomb cyclone” until yesterday and now Zippy has repeated that phrase so many times Zebu and I are debating drinking a shot every time he says “bomb cyclone.” Might as well have some fun with it, right?
The wind is blowing hard and swirling every which way. Windows on all four sides of the house are affected.
North. South. East. West. Everywhere I look is a snowy-blowy mess. Bomb cyclone.
Oops, everyone take a drink!
Photo taken March 27, 2018
Even in winter an isolated patch of snow has a special quality. ~ Andy Goldsworthy
Enough said.
It’s 21 degrees right now and I’m happy to be inside where it’s warm and dry. Meanwhile, these House Finches are busy outside my window with the task of staying alive, somehow almost making it look like fun.
Party on, Garth.
I woke this morning to snow that fell for hours before abruptly stopping when the sun came out. Zippy was out shoveling and came in to let me know we had a visitor in the yard. By the time I got to the window, the doe was strolling up the street past the spot where a huge pickup had slid sideways earlier in the day. (You can see the exposed groundcover where the truck went up over the sidewalk).
Hooves are superior to Michelins.
You: How sick of the snow are you, Tracy?
Me: Sick enough to use a photo from February rather than go out in it today.
This morning we woke to six inches of snow on the deck railing. The yard was blanketed in white. Tree limbs and branches were layered with pristine fluff. And now? Much of that snow is already gone.
Yesterday is but today’s memory, and tomorrow is today’s dream.
~ Khalil Gibran
Music comes from an icicle as it melts,
to live again as spring water.
~ Henry Williamson
I’ve seen a fair amount of snow in my life. I grew up in Wisconsin, lived in Alaska for six years, and now live in Colorado. Snow is a known quantity. That said, I can’t remember another time I looked out the window and saw individual flakes.
This snowfall is magical.
Yesterday, I wrote about my gratitude for the snowstorm.
Today, after trying to walk Emma who seemed so determined to make me fall on the ice that I was forced to abort the effort after only three minutes, I’m over it.
Grrr.
We’re finally getting much-needed snow! The recent warm temperatures and freakishly dry landscape felt slightly apocalyptic, so it’s a huge relief to receive moisture. Plus, the white provides a nice, clean blanket over all that drab brown.
However, it’s possible that not everyone shares my enthusiasm for the snowstorm.
Yesterday was a beautiful autumn day, sunny and in the low 60s. Zippy and I spent the afternoon working in the yard, trying to catch up on our much-neglected gardens that have run amok. The sun shone through the leaves and I paused in my work to capture this vibrant image:
I made a conscious effort to fully experience the colors and balmy temperatures, because there was a huge weather shift on the way. This morning we woke to about 4 inches of snow on the deck railing (currently 8 inches or so).
Tomorrow is supposed to be sunny with a high of 51 degrees. Welcome to Colorado.
Tracy Abell 