It was quite beautiful, looking out the steamy kitchen window on Thanksgiving day, watching those fluffy snowflakes fall. I knew it was coming. It was Lake Effect snow: a rather common occurrence around here. I was surprised, on moving here and practicing architecture, that the requirements for roof members (structures) weren’t more stringent: our average winter will see something like 70-80″ of snowfall. But the reason they’re not so tough? The stuff melts. Quickly.
And so it is, looking outside today: I knew the ground wasn’t frozen yet, and that 5″ of snow didn’t have a chance to stick around. The chickens and guineas are happy. They see their precious grass again, and they’ve found their dirt-bath dirt. About every half hour I am scared witless by ice crashing from the house roof onto the porch roofs (metal roofs on all both expedite and amplify this effect).
I step outside and look toward the back of the property, looking northeast. The leaves have finally fallen off the trees, and the world is still white, at least for a little while. I hear the roof dripping, and I smell…I smell nearly nothing, just that great outdoor fresh-air smell. No vegetative funk, no burning leaves, just the winter air. I can just hear the sound of the lake’s waves crashing, but I need to strain to hear it.
This snow will go. We’ll get one more grass cutting/leaf pickup done, probably within two weeks, and then we’ll steady ourselves for winter in earnest, when the snow comes and stays.
And if I grow to miss that smell of vegetation, I will just need to step into the greenhouse to smell it again.
you’ve described the perfect silent peace of early winter when you write about looking northeast.
thanks for this post.
Luna and I love the snow too. Aaahhh to have a greenhouse…
The silence of snow, that’s the thing I love the best. Here it happens only once or twice during winter and it is to be savoured.
That’s a beautiful scene… I love the silence of winter after a snow, too. It’s very restful.
About the only time I love the cold is when it snows. I just sit and stare. And although it has been many years since I was in their shoes, I still root for the kids who want a snow day from school. I want a snow day too!
Gigi: It IS silent. Kind of like you have cotton in your ears. But it’s nicer than that…
Lisa: I am so glad the dogs I have had have been snowdogs. Penny just loves to run around like a fool. We could all use a dose of her enthusiasm, actually…
Nada: Can you go up into the mountains to see it? I would really miss it if it only happened twice a winter!
Carol: Thanks. The silence tells us to sit down and stop gardening, certainly.
Robin: I love snow days! Actually, I like being stuck in the house or on the farm period.
The only part of Australia that holds snow for several months is the High Country at least 5-6 hours drive south of me (some is a few hours more). It is chiefly the territory of skiers in the winter.
When you don’t know what being snowed in or living with snow means, you’ve got little to compare it to.
I do like the silence of snow but ski fields, I know, do not give you that.