Preparation
We had been tracking reports about the coming storm since early in the week. At first it looked like we’d just catch the edge of it, with only an inch or two of snow predicted. But by Wednesday, the predictions were more certain, and the word was around 14 inches. We spent part of Wednesday getting ready, doing some of the chores you don’t do when there are 14 inches of snow on the ground. I emptied the pellet stove’s ash pan, the cat’s litter pail, and the compost container. Jay put up the reflectors along the side of the driveway so that he’d be able to find it in the snow. We brought home 800 pounds of pellets and he stashed them in the garage, a big improvement over the first winter when we had to trudge out to the barn to bring in pellets. In Cooperstown everyone was preparing, and all the masked and socially distant conversation was about the storm on its way.
We were prepared, but there were things we forgot to do, or just didn’t consider. One of the snow shovels was safely in the entry way, but another was left outside, leaning against the back steps, buried up to its handle by morning and inaccessible beside the snowed in steps. And the tractor was in the barn, though if we’d thought ahead we could have swapped and put the Prius in the barn and the tractor in the garage. Live and learn. It took us half an hour to dig our way from the garage to the barn so that Jay could get to the tractor and start plowing. Next time.
It was just snowing lightly when we went to to bed Wednesday night. By the time I woke around 12:30, restless, the back stairs were already disappearing under a ramp of snow. Looking out the kitchen door, I could see that the wind was sweeping a little patch clear right near the back door to the garage, so I figured if I had to take Charlie out, that was where I’d go. The sky was white, even in the dark. The snow was falling thickly, but it was those tiny dry flakes that we don’t have a name for. It’s much easier to deal with than the fat, wet flakes, that we also lack a name for. I went back to bed, glad that Charlie was sound asleep.
Just before 6:00 I was awake as usual. Still snowing, and now the back stairs were completely gone, and there was at least a foot of snow piled against the sliding glass doors. I walked down to the front door, to see if I’d be able to clear a little space for Charlie, but the snow was well over a foot deep against the door, and just past that low point there was a drift, at least two feet high. At the back door to the garage there was a spot where the snow was a little less deep, and I cleared some space for Charlie to go out when he got up. There was no way we were going to get to the barn. In the event, he wasn’t interested in my clearing and peed in the garage. I couldn’t blame him – it was 14 degrees out.
We spent the cozy morning chatting by the fire watching the snow get deeper. By 11:15 when I finished my Zoom with Lilah, it had mostly stopped snowing. Lilah had decided to take a snow day, and instead of social studies we just had a nice visit, with five year old Isaac gleefully joining in. They told me about their day and their Hanukkah presents, spent some time showing me their dog (the soul of patience), and then Lilah read to me from her joke book, all the knock knock jokes I could handle.
The rest of the day was snow clearing, and aside from the three quarters of an hour or so I did shoveling it was all Jay’s work, hours on the tractor. Nicole came down, as excited as a six year old, and got me to take videos of her frolicking in two foot deep snow, probably to send back to her pals in California. She dug a little igloo for Charlie (who she adores) but he was not interested despite her assurances that it was warm in there. (Nicole is the lovely tenant in our studio above the garage, blissfully happy out here in the country. Happily, she is off work all this week.)
Inspired by Terri’s account of all her backyard birds, I put up a feeder last week. I was just beginning to think that there was something wrong with the placement – maybe too close to the house – because I’d gone a week without visitors. But today, two little sparrows showed up in their down vests, looking as grateful as sparrows can look. It was a delight to watch them, and I’m hoping they’ll attract friends.
Our world is breathtakingly beautiful in the snow. The color palette is so limited, and somehow the limitation makes it all the more beautiful, another example of less is more. It’s a simple world, fields of snow edged by bare trees and evergreens, rows of hills diminishing towards the grey horizon. The sun broke through for a few minutes and made everything shine briefly. It has taken me most of the day to keep an eye on all this snow, grateful that we were reasonably well prepared for it. We’ll be back at the gym tomorrow, but as this day darkens into night we don’t need to be anywhere but snug by the fire.