Last week we experienced a “deep freeze”. We bundled in layers and dashed out from our cozy homes only when our errands could no longer be avoided. But then it started to warm up again, and we could venture from hiding. On Monday, we started with snow on the ground and sloppy roads. I skipped groceries and went straight home. By evening, the driveway was bare, it was getting foggy…it may have even rained.
On Tuesday, we woke up to light fog again, but I pushed myself to go from the school to the grocery store and do what had to be done! The fog thickened while I was lingering by the bakery counter with longing in my eyes…Drizzle…a nice word when it’s chocolate on a pastry, or vanilla cream on a crepe, but not so nice when you’re out in it.
By mid-morning I could hear the rain splashing on the concrete out back. The fog slowly lifted as the wind picked up speed; it seemed a little brighter. The snow on the roof of the neighbour’s house across the street had been blown by the wind so that it looked like a solid powdered sheet – it reminded me of icing sugar on a gingerbread house.
Most fascinating of all, was the way the droplets of rain slowly covered each tiny twig on the maple trees, giving the tips a white shroud of ice. Within minutes, I could see the frosty icicles growing thicker as the temperature dropped. I wanted to go out and try to take pictures of this ghostly wonder, but the splatter out back detained me. It sounded cold. Instead I closed my eyes and listened to it, willing it to lull me to sleep.
I know we need the snow and sleet to water the earth. I take comfort in knowing that one day these branches encased in ice will become tender shoots that will blossom with the warmth of Spring. I hold on to that thought on these bleak mid-winter days.