It's Still about the Weather

             On the sixth day of the snowfall a neighbor plowed my road, just enough that I could get my car down the hill, though not enough to get it up again. (That won't be possible for a while.) I drove to town and bought groceries, then came back up the mountain as soon as possible. I parked as much off the road as I could, given the mounds of snow the snowplow had thrown on the shoulder. Then I hefted my pack full of groceries and hiked through the snow up the hill to my house.

            On the seventh day, my friend Mike walked up the hill through the snow to spend the day and the night with me. Fellowship is especially welcome at times like this. I was glad I had food for a good dinner.

            One day it started to rain and didn't stop for 36 hours. Two of the three feet of snow melted. Immediately after that it snowed for 24 hours. Accumulation was instant. After a while I couldn't even tell where the snowplow had been.

            On the tenth day I put on my ski boots and gaiters (the best protection against the slush) and walked down the road just at daybreak for my first day of teaching this term. However, I never made it to class because I got the car stuck in the new snow as I tried to pull onto the road. I abandoned the car where it was and sludged back up the hill. I thought about going back down with a shovel, but I was exhausted from two hikes, so I called my secretary and asked her to meet my classes, explain why I wasn't there, and hand out my syllabus. I spent the day sewing, playing my guitar, and admiring the snow.

            On the eleventh day I walked down the hill with a shovel, but when I got to my car a kind neighbor was already shoveling me out. I worked with him to widen my parking space, then drove two miles down an icy road and the rest of the way into town on ice-free roads. I had tea with friends, went to the knitting store, and returned to walk home just before dark.

            On the twelfth day – today – I walked down the road at first light and, after a scary moment when I thought the car door was frozen shut, I got in the car and drove without difficulty to the college. My last class was over at 4:00. I was parked at the bottom of the road by 5:00 and home before dark.

            Day after day, from the first day to the twelfth and on through the weeks, I have reveled in winter. Everything is still beautifully white. Sounds vacillate between the rush of snowmelt or steady rain and the utter stillness of a freeze, both beautiful. I wear my beautiful winter coat and my sweaters and hats and my furry black boots. I sleep deeply and warmly under good wool blankets, and I eat hot soups, drink good teas, and make brownies. Best of all, I sit at the window and relish the beauty of the world, not neglecting to be grateful for this beautiful warm house in which I am so happily snowbound.