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     All heaven and earth

Flowered white obliterate...

   Snow...Unceasing snow


Ah the power of a simple, 19th century Japanese haiku. What could better describe Maine in the last 24 hours?


Snow fell at a dizzying rate around the old farmhouse last night, and we discovered just how drafty these old houses can be. Still, with a roaring fire in the library keeping the front of the house warm and the wood stove cranking out heat in the living room, we were comfortable enough.


This morning, after sleeping in late and enduring the tramp of the cats across the bed as they desperately tried to get me up, I stoked the wood stove again and opened the curtains.


Snow. White, blinding, drifting, wind-carved sculptures of snow. Beautiful.  The only word to describe it. Magical even. Especially this close to Christmas. Of course, I'm sitting in the wood-warmth of the library as I write this, with no reason to have to go anywhere today. I have the luxury of waxing poetic about the swirling snow sculpting hollows around the base of the old apple trees.


As a young child, I loved snow, especially good, steady storms.  Especially those that hit on a school night.  There was always the anticipation, watching those fat flakes slam against the window pane as you drifted off to sleep that school might just be cancelled the next day.


Next morning, up at the regular time, getting ready for school slower than normal, one ear on the radio announcer while he ran through the lengthy list of school closings for the day. Nothing was more agonizing for us than waiting for the name of our school to come around.  They were read alphabetically and our school name began with a 'W'...  The wait could be almost painful, but oh, the joy when our school was finally among the list of closings for the day!


Then, as soon as the snow stopped, (and we always wanted it to stop as soon as possible after the school closed), my brother, sister and I would be bundled up tight against the cold and off we'd go to build snow forts or go sledding on our own version of Rosebud or a sliver saucer. I suppose if I was a kid today (physical age of course, as I'm still a kid, mentally) I'd plop down in front of the TV or computer to play video games. Oh what I'd be missing if I did...


Then there was a year when winter wasn't so kind, and bad drifts blocked the road below our farm and snow plows couldn't get through.  High banks along the old country road in front of our house meant the school bus not only couldn't go past, it couldn't even turn around after picking us up.  So, for a good part of that winter, (as I remember it) we had to hike out about a mile to the main road to catch the school bus.  Not only did we have to tramp through the snow and cold, we had to get up even earlier than usual every morning, just to catch the bus!


Makes you wonder how children did it every winter, hiking miles to the rural schools.  My hat's off to all the past children who made the trek for an education, and to the teachers who often did the same, just to teach those children.


Well, I guess it's time get bundled up and go clean off the car, and then come back in to thaw out at the wood stove.  I wonder if this snow's any good for making a snow fort?  Hmmm...

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This page contains a single entry by JeffAdminist published on July 8, 2009 5:43 PM.

A Time to Talk was the previous entry in this blog.

Winter Visitors ... 2 is the next entry in this blog.

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