It started in the night, as they said it would. Never one to predict or assume anything regarding Mother Nature, I believe it when I see it. This morning, I believed. A thick blanket of snow covered the world, and more was falling silently from the sky. In the front yard, a tall hedge of ‘Steeplechase’ Thuja stood, cradling big fluffy pockets of snow and a multitude of chirping birds. It was a wall of life – the dark green scales of the evergreen still pulsing with suspended cells, backed by the songs of tiny winged creatures. A gorgeous living panoply, buffering our home from the street.
A noisy plow, with its swirling yellow lights, barrels down the road, spraying snow and piling it high on the edge of the driveway. I will ask if Andy needs help with it as the snow-blower can only do so much. Such is winter in the Northeast – and if I were someplace where it was sunny and warm every day, I would miss it. (But I’m not.)
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