snow – Page 5 – In the Woods

profound stillness

I love the deep silence of the midwinter woods. It is a stillness you can rest your whole weight against. Not the light silence of summer, constantly broken by the sound of leaves, bird-song, the scurry of little beasts, the hum of insects. This stillness is so profound you are sure it will hold and last.
~ Florence Page Jaques
(Snowshoe Country)

When I was a child I loved winter, still do. There were so many moments when time seemed to stand still. Outdoors playing in the swamp and in the woods behind our house. The magic of ice-skating between clumps of earth surrounded by ice in the swamp. At dusk. Sometimes there were snow flurries, too, adding a silent thrill to the spell.

Only now do I discern the concept of stillness. My life happens in a small city these days and I have been complaining to Tim about the racket the snow plows keep making in their ceaseless efforts to keep the roads and our parking spaces clear. I find myself craving to be away from the noise, to enjoy snow flurries out my window without the inevitable pandemonium.

Maybe I’m just cranky these days. A couple of days before my six-week surgery follow-up I came down with a bad cold. Tim had it for three days before I succumbed to it, so we have been very miserable together. As soon as I got the go-ahead from the surgeon to resume normal activities I was too sick to enjoy the freedom! And now that the cold is almost gone I will be going to see the radiation oncologist tomorrow to consult about the next round of treatment.

A few years ago I wrote this on one of my posts: One early wordless memory I have is of lying on the cold winter ground in the woods and eyeing a little princess pine peeking through the snow. I was astonished at the connection I felt to the small precious life, and how thrilled I was to be aware of its presence!

One little princess pine in an endless sea of snow and trees. I thought of that moment once again when I read Florence Page Jaques’ words about “a stillness you can rest your whole weight against.” One little cancer survivor in the endless flow of here/now.

wintry wind

josephfarquharson-blow-blow-thou-wintery-wind — “Blow, Blow, Thou Wintery Wind” by Joseph Farquharson

O wind,
If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?
~ Percy Bysshe Shelley
(The Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley: In Three Volumes)

wishing for snow

2.22.15 ~ two years ago… Groton, Connecticut

It’s been three weeks (and two days) since Tim’s surgery and healing is coming along nicely, slowly and steadily, without any of the possible complications making an appearance. Visiting nurses continue to come three times a week to take measurements and change the wound dressing. Since we were told to expect a four to six week recovery time it looks like everything is going very well. Tim is comfortable in his recliner.

Sadly, while Tim was in the hospital his uncle died and then a couple of days after he got home his sister-in-law died. So many things at once…

We’ve only had one big snowstorm this January (the day after surgery so I couldn’t visit Tim that day) so I’m still waiting patiently for some snow. As long as it doesn’t come on a day when we are scheduled to visit the surgeon for follow-up appointments! The weather report indicates this spring-like weather pattern will give way to a more natural and snowy February. I do hope so!

different kinds of good weather

claudemonet-sandviken-norway — “Sandviken, Norway” by Claude Monet

Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up, snow is exhilarating; there is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.
~ John Ruskin
(Words of Wisdom: John Ruskin)

under-lighting

Early this morning we saw something beautiful that we had never seen before. Gulls flying overhead with the sun rays of dawn under-lighting their wings. It was as if they had shiny reflectors on the underside of their wings ~ breathtaking…

The patient (Tim) has had his last meal at his favorite restaurant and we’ve stocked up on clear liquids and chewing gum. Not looking forward to driving to the hospital in a snow storm tomorrow morning.

crisp winter air

red-house-and-spruces-1927 — “Red House & Spruces” by Edvard Munch

It is the life of the crystal, the architect of the flake, the fire of the frost, the soul of the sunbeam. This crisp winter air is full of it.
~ John Burroughs
(Winter Sunshine)

~ winter solstice ~

first snow

Snow provokes responses that reach right back to childhood.
~ Andy Goldsworthy
(Midsummer Snowballs)

I am a book of snow,
a spacious hand, an open meadow,
a circle that waits,
I belong to the earth and its winter.
~ Pablo Neruda
(Winter Garden)

muffled steps outside

johnbauer-in-the-christmas-night — “In the Christmas Night” by John Bauer

The snow is lying very deep.
My house is sheltered from the blast.
I hear each muffled step outside,
I hear each voice go past.

But I’ll not venture in the drift
Out of this bright security,
Till enough footsteps come and go
To make a path for me.

~ Agnes Lee
(The Second Book of Modern Verse:
A Selection from the Work of Contemporaneous American Poets)

from daffodils to snow

3.21.16.2448 — 3.21.16 ~ second day of spring in Groton, Connecticut. The small dumpster is for construction debris from our bathroom renovation.

It’s been snowing! I’ve come back from my twelve days in North Carolina, where spring has already sprung, big time!

3.13.16.2082 — 3.13.16 ~ daffodils blooming in Chapel Hill, North Carolina

Poor Katherine… it’s no fun when it’s so nice outside but you are miserable with a fever and a very runny nose. And you don’t want to get out of your pajamas or comb your hair or let go of your bunny or blanket… And your visiting Grammy still insists on getting some pictures of you!

3.13.16.2090 — “Katherine and Hopkins the bunny.”

3.13.16.2096 — “Maybe I will try taking a little walk.”

3.13.16.2112 — “Getting warm, time to take off this jacket. Yes, I do know that one pajama leg is scrunched up and I don’t care!”

3.13.16.2116 — “Maybe Daddy can get the blanket draped over my shoulders just the way I want it.”

3.13.16.2119 — “Then again, maybe not. Oh well.
Feeling warm enough so I’ll just sit here with Hopkins and Daddy again.”

Several hours later – it must have been at least 80°F in the afternoon!

3.13.16.2437 — “Mommy persuaded me to get dressed and follow her out to the garden,
but I still don’t feel well…”

3.13.16.2441 — “Mommy & I fixed the position of a slate stepping stone that had shifted over the winter”

I had a lovely time visiting the little one and her parents. Their new house is beautiful. Larisa and I planted some seeds in her vegetable garden, re-potted a couple of plants, discussed colors for painting the walls, took walks, ate out several times, and went shopping for all sorts of things for the house and for clothes for Katherine. I also got to spend time with my friend from high school, Susan, who lives only two miles away. We got caught in a scary thunder and hail storm one night on our way home from having dinner out. Yikes! And I had plenty of time to work on my ancestor table (see sidebar) while the family was at work and daycare.

Now that I am home work on the bathroom has stalled as we wait for the floor tile to come in. But a lot got done while I was gone. The new closet is framed out, the electrical and plumbing are all done, and the walls are up. And I’m looking out my window at about 5 inches of snow – quite a contrast to the daffodils down south!