To borrow and flip a common description of March, January is certainly going out like a lion. It is snowing again, and the forecast indicates we will be getting another foot of snow. More shoveling, more canceled plans.
On the bright side…Clif and I will certainly be getting our exercise thanks to nature’s gym, as we jokingly call it. And, Liam, too, will get a work out. By nightfall, after so much shoveling, we’ll all be sacked out in the living room. And if the snow doesn’t stop by nightfall, tomorrow we’ll have to do it all over again.
We are positively hemmed in by the snow, and the woods are now closed to me. I could go on snowmobile trails, but it makes me nervous to do so. Those little machines go fast, and especially with the dog, I’m always afraid I’m not going to get out of the way in time in such deep snow. The trails are for the snowmobiles, so I don’t have much of a complaint, but I will miss going in the woods. Always something different to see and photograph.
Except for the paths I have shoveled, my own backyard is closed to me. Winter, with its deep snow, is a time of confinement. The landscape might loom large and white, but where you can go is narrowly proscribed unless you have skis, snowshoes, or a snowmobile. Unfortunately, with my creaky knees, my days of skiing and snowshoeing are over. While I don’t hate snowmobiles the way some green beans do, I have no desire to own one.
It’s a good thing, then, that January is so beautiful. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be able to stand it. On a snowy day, January is majestic and solemn. On a sunny day, with the blue shadows on the smooth snow, the landscape is so dazzling that I almost don’t mind being confined to my little paths. Almost. (The pictures in this post were taken yesterday, on one of those sunny days.)
Today, along with shoveling, will be a day to make bread. I’ll also do a bit of decluttering in the hopes we can get to the transfer station tomorrow.
In the meantime, the snow comes down, soft and steady.