snow – Page 7 – In the Woods

birds in the blizzard

1.27.15.2714 — 1.27.15 ~ Groton, Connecticut

Come, ye cold winds! at January’s call,
On whistling wings; and with white flakes bestrew
The earth.
~ John Ruskin
(The Poems of John Ruskin, Volume 1)

1.27.15.2733 — 1.27.15 ~ Groton, Connecticut

Blizzard Colbie gave us 22 24 inches of snow. I have been waiting for some decent snow this winter and it finally arrived. Zoë and I had a delightful afternoon watching the birds feeding in the snow on our balcony.

1.27.15.2751 — an odd couple ~ 1.27.15 ~ Groton, Connecticut

1.27.15.2761 — 1.27.15 ~ Groton, Connecticut

Tim sets up a webcam when it snows up here, so our kids in Georgia and North Carolina can watch the storm as it progresses. Nate, who has loved the color red since he was a baby, pinged me to let me know I had a cardinal out there. I already knew that, but it warmed my heart to know that he is still partial to all things red.

1.27.15.2772 — an angry looking jay,
perhaps because I didn’t put out peanuts in the shells for him

1.27.15.2847 — this cardinal seemed to be eating snow all afternoon

1.27.15.2865 — Tim liked this picture a lot so I included it here

1.27.15.2874 — oh how I love my friendly, inquisitive mourning doves

1.27.15.2901 — a sweet little junco, he captivated Zoë’s attention for quite a while
1.27.15 ~ Groton, Connecticut

1.27.15.2926 — 1.27.15 ~ Groton, Connecticut

They still have not come to plow the parking lot of our complex and I’m wondering what the hold up is. Tim returned from doing some volunteer work at the Red Cross shelter and got stuck in the entrance to the driveway. Fortunately our very kind neighbors dug him out and created a parking space for him, too. All the neighbors’ cars are still buried.

Edit – the morning after – the final snow total for Groton was 24 inches! The town of Thompson got 33.5 inches!

dark places

theodorkittelsen.december — “December” by Theodor Kittelsen

The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair; and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.
~ J. R. R. Tolkien
(The Fellowship of the Ring)

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
~ Max Ehrmann
(Desiderata)

first snow

theodorkittelsen.november — “November” by Theodor Kittelsen

I am younger each year at the first snow. When I see it, suddenly, in the air, all little and white and moving; then I am in love again and very young and I believe everything.
~ Anne Sexton
(Letter to W. D. Snodgrass, November 28, 1958)

wind chilly

3.1.14.9608 — gulls on the ice ~ 3.1.14 ~ Mystic, Connecticut

It seems that this winter has been a harsher one than average, a monotony of record low temperatures and record high amounts of snow. March came in like a lion. It must be a potent combination of cabin fever and mourning, but I still feel like I’m staggering around in a daze. Maybe it will go out like a lamb and things will settle down for a time.

3.1.14.9618 — Elm Grove Cemetery ~ 3.1.14 ~ Mystic, Connecticut

Grief distracts is strange ways. There’s the usual opening of the refrigerator to get something out of the microwave, but then there’s the trying to deposit a check stub when I meant to deposit the check itself. Cracking an egg into the sink instead of the bowl. I’m starting to wonder if I’m permanently altered. If adorable Zoë wasn’t waking me up each morning for her breakfast of trout and eggs, I wonder if I’d even bother getting out of bed.

3.1.14.9639 — Elm Grove Cemetery ~ 3.1.14 ~ Mystic, Connecticut

For the life of me I cannot figure out why we decided to go to a cemetery to take pictures last weekend. We just had to get out of the house and it was the only thing we could think of doing outside. Elm Grove Cemetery borders the Mystic River and the wind off the river was biting and icy. My fingers weren’t cooperating they felt so raw.

3.1.14.9642 — Elm Grove Cemetery ~ 3.1.14 ~ Mystic, Connecticut

But I noticed a theme as I got in and out of the car to warm up. I was looking up at the sky and the trees and the way they framed some of the tall monuments. Breathtaking beauty. There was another theme, too, but that will be for another post…

3.1.14.9671 — Elm Grove Cemetery ~ 3.1.14 ~ Mystic, Connecticut

There were a couple of poignant scenes close to the ground, too. Perhaps this flag has been weathering the winter since Veterans Day.

3.1.14.9665 — Elm Grove Cemetery ~ 3.1.14 ~ Mystic, Connecticut

Beloved Mum…

3.1.14.9674 — Elm Grove Cemetery ~ 3.1.14 ~ Mystic, Connecticut

a trail of busted stuff

"The White Mantle" by Willard Metcalf (1858-1925) American Painter — “The White Mantle” by Willard Metcalf

1° F here this frigid morning… Winter storm Bethany dumped some snow on us Thursday and Friday, and this morning I peeked out the window to see what kind of shoveling job I have ahead of me this afternoon, when it should be a little bit warmer. It doesn’t look like many of our neighbors have been out to shovel either. The world seems so still in the cold.

It was a production getting the bathroom warm enough to take a shower in! But now that I am clean and swathed in extra layers of clothing, I decided to find a painting and type out a few words for a blog post. It’s a start.

Not surprisingly, after nine months of unrelenting stress, my poor husband has succumbed to a bad cold. He’s tucked in on the couch, watching old movies and science fiction movies – a well-deserved rest from his care-giving. I’m bringing him soup, tissues, medicines, hot tea with honey. It’s going to take us a long time to recuperate and rebuild after a rolling stone entered our lives, in the form of his brother Toby.

A rolling stone gathers no moss
But leaves a trail of busted stuff
~ Dave Matthews
♫ (Busted Stuff) ♫

I hesitate to write much about the past year and the the joys and sorrows it brought, all blessings, some in disguise. Toby was easy to love but impossible to live with. Yet somehow we did it. I still had much to learn about family love and pain and trust and compassion. My heart is full of gratitude as I hibernate here in the winter to contemplate and heal…

snow on snow

WillardMetcalf.whiteveil — “The White Veil” by Willard Metcalf

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.
~ Christina Rossetti
(In the Bleak Midwinter)

Welcome Winter!

a wooden way

"The Little Owl" by Albrecht Dürer (1471-1528) German Artist — “The Little Owl” by Albrecht Dürer

After great pain, a formal feeling comes –—
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs –—
The stiff Heart questions ‘was it He, that bore,’
And ‘Yesterday, or Centuries before’?

The Feet, mechanical, go round –—
A Wooden way
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought –—
Regardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone –—

This is the Hour of Lead –—
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow –—
First — Chill — then Stupor — then the letting go –—

~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #372)

so many claims

8.18.13 ~ Groton, Connecticut — ring-billed gull ~ 8.18.13 ~ Eastern Point Beach

This week I have not read any book, nor once walked in the woods and field. I meant to give its days to setting outward things in order, and its evenings to writing. But, I know not how it is, I can never simplify my life; always so many ties, so many claims! However, soon the winter winds will chant matins and vespers, which may make my house a cell, and in a snowy veil enfold me for my prayer.
~ Margaret Fuller
(Letter to William H. Channing, October 25, 1840)

everything is flowing

Blue Marble image of North America
by NASA/NOAA/GSFC/Suomi NPP/VIIRS/Norman Kuring

In the belly of the furnace of creativity is a sexual fire; the flames twine about each other in fear and delight. The same sort of coiling, at a cooler, slower pace, is what the life of this planet looks like. The enormous spirals of typhoons, the twists and turns of mountain ranges and gorges, the waves and the deep ocean currents – a dragonlike writhing.
~ Gary Snyder
(A Place in Space)

Yet it is not our part to master all the tides of the world, but to do what is in us for the succor of those years wherein we are set, uprooting the evil in the fields that we know, so that those who live after may have a clean earth to till. What weather they shall have is not ours to rule.
~ J. R. R. Tolkien
(The Return of the King)

Contemplating the lace-like fabric of streams outspread over the mountains, we are reminded that everything is flowing — going somewhere, animals and so-called lifeless rocks as well as water. Thus the snow flows fast or slow in grand beauty-making glaciers and avalanches; the air in majestic floods carrying minerals, plant leaves, seeds, spores, with streams of music and fragrance; water streams carrying rocks both in solution and in the form of mud particles, sand, pebbles, and boulders. Rocks flow from volcanoes like water from springs, and animals flock together and flow in currents modified by stepping, leaping, gliding, flying, swimming, etc. While the stars go streaming through space pulsed on and on forever like blood globules in Nature’s warm heart.
~ John Muir
(Meditations of John Muir: Nature’s Temple)

Happy Earth Day!