Wednesday turned out to be every bit as much of a blizzard as anticipated. I had hoped to spend the day with bright, white light and soft, fluffy flakes flying past my window. Unfortunately, all I had to look at was this:
Our warm windows were perpetually coated with a drip drip of melting snowflakes; by the end of the day the snow had drifted up all over the window ledge and even if we could find a moisture-free pane, the view outside was far too gray and blustery and blizzardy to be able to see much past the road – those two faint brown streaks to the left are trees that are just across the street from our apartment.
I finally decided to ignore the snowstorm completely and made the best use of my time stuck indoors to begin in on my 2010 To Do List. I had laid in a store of chardonnay and brandy and spent three hours in the kitchen slaving over something special. But that is for another post entirely.
When I woke up this morning to a quiet atmosphere, I was expecting that usual idyllic, fondant-like coating to be lying on the ground. Instead, those powerful gusting winds produced a barren landscape: cliffs and depressions and mountains broke up the snow everywhere. As the sun came up, the trees began shedding the intense weight from their branches and the air was filled with mini-avalanches and the landscape became grotesquely pockmarked. Soon the sun caused the edges of the snow to begin melting into piles of slush… and by then, I was all too happy to allow Andy to head outside to do battle with our car (which, when we first looked out the window that morning, was completely invisible) while I curled up in bed with a book.
Tomorrow, it will be back to reality – a very slush-and-snow-bank-filled reality – with real work and packed lunches and getting dressed before noon. But for this evening, I am going to pour myself another glass of wine and watch another movie and be thankful for my warm fleece and heaters and snow days.