One gardener's observations, discoveries and random thoughts whilst simultaneously worshipping and dallying in a Cape Cod garden. "A garden," said Ralph Waldo Emerson, "is like those pernicious machineries which catch a man's coatskirt or his hand, and draw in his arm, his leg and his whole body to irresistable destruction."

Sunday Snow



Well, the last few winter storms to devil New England have visited us almost entirely as rain, so perhaps balance is restored to the universe with the knowledge that today, we are getting the snow.

At first, it just seemed like a few flurries. After all, they had only been calling for a possible inch or two of side effect for a storm passing us out over the ocean. But then the storm track shifted and suddenly there were storm warnings. But those weren’t even necessary, from the speed with which snow began accumulating.


Outside the kitchen windows, about half a dozen dark-eyed juncos dug and pecked in the snow for the seed I’d thrown out earlier, with a frantic energy that foreshadowed my afternoon visit to the Stop and Shop.

Some birds, like this woodpecker, seemed undetered by the weather.


Although it’d only been snowing about an hour or so, the roads were a bit on the slick side and there were lots of folks out driving. In fact, I got the very last cart available inside the store when I got to the market. Aisles were crowded, all of us seemingly stocking up on the same things.

And then, a cautious ride home later, I was back at home and ready to stay there for the storm’s duration.

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