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."

Snowy Day

It started out just the way it always does.

There was the sudden appearance on the long range forecast of the big Snowflake icon…and shortly after that, a Winter Storm Watch was posted.     It was far too warm to snow, it seemed, though the temperature seemed to be teetering back and forth and every now and then, we’d look out the office windows and see that the rain was “thicker”.     And then there were wildly swirling snowflakes the size of our heads.

About that time someone heard the forecast about heavy bands of snow sweeping along the Connecticut coast in our direction with the possibility of four inches of heavy snow by 4 pm and a quiet murmur of panic sounded as the usual suspects began to fret about being able to get home safely.   As darkness fell – earlier under the storm’s cloak – and the Storm Watch upgraded to a Warning, our temperature began to climb.   It was heavy rain through which we made our ways home.

And rain that continued on into the evening, spattering the windows as the howling winds began to mount.   Even in the face of that, there was the possibility that we might…only might…wake up to a world of white.  In bed at a reasonable (for me, anyway) hour and snuggling for a bit with Mister Purrypants, I listened to the rain, loud on the windows, on the roof, on the side of the house, not unlike many nights here on Cape Cod, actually.

I did sleep – it’s actually a comforting sound when one’s accustomed to it, I find – but it wasn’t a quiet night and I was attuned enough to the sounds of the storm that I could tell when the temperature would drop and the rain on the windows would start to freeze and sound harder on impact, no longer quite a liquid.   And then it would change back again.   Then, somewhere around 5 or so, I woke to silence, the sounds of the world muffled…and I managed to raise myself up enough for a glimpse out the window, at a world of snow.

There wasn’t much of it, it seemed, but it was still snowing and it was early enough I could comfortably nestle myself back into the covers for a while more.   At least until the Catsby came bounding in, having discovered my momentary wakefulness and capitalizing on it for a bowl refill before I could settle in.

Very shortly, the precious silence was taken over with plow sounds on the nearby highway, in the courthouse parking lot…and then past the front of our place.   Pavement scraping.  Back-up beepers.   The radio chimed in low with the long list of school closings or delayed openings.  And then came the text that our own office opening was going to be delayed a few hours, owing to the slushy, icy snowy conditions out there.

Fortunately, nothing pre-empts The Catdude’s favorite shows and the birds were singing up a storm of their own as the snowstorm began to wind down.

There’s something about this shot below I’m especially fond of.  I think it’s the way our street remains only a tire track at the early hour this was taken and only barely visible through the trees.   I guess what I love about the snow is the way it changes how everything looks.   The dreary dull of this season is blanketed and everything is soft and undisturbed and unspoiled and new looking.

As seems to be the theme so far this year, we didn’t get much snow, certainly not as much as so many other places, most of which were already trying to figure out what to do with the snows from the last couple of storm.

And while it would’ve been sweet to have the whole day off from a bigger storm, I was content that there was time to take a few pictures, to cook a nice hot breakfast and have an extra cup of coffee before getting out there into the workday.  (After all, as Practical Gardener is keen to remind me, a day’s work is a day’s pay.)

This poor bush (is it a privet? I’ll look more closely later on.) was certainly done no service being planted under the eaves of our office building where it must bear this icy run-off, but it certainly was pretty covered in ice and glittering in the sun.

Naturally, once the storm had passed, our temperature dropped back down into the 20s,  but it was still a pretty day with some nice warm sunshine.  Two of us were brave enough to do our usual lunchtime walking, though slushy and potentially slippery conditions kept our lap count down a bit.

Here’s the view out my office window just before leaving to come home this evening.

With the snowy, ice-laden landscape reminding us that all of February still stretched out before us, it’s always cool to be able to see that our days are lengthening and before we know it, Spring will be here.


Comments on: "Snowy Day" (5)

  1. Love your words, love your pics, love that you are embracing Winter. Spring will come soon enough. A magical post.

  2. Great Post and great pictures.
    I love the iceicle bush.
    Stay Warm.

  3. I’ve been dreading an upcoming trip to the snow country, but after reading this I’m actually a little eager. It really is a gorgeous transformation of the landscape!
    How cool! I hope you have a great time!!

  4. It’s always so much lovelier when it’s not at my house, LOL.

  5. It really is special to see when the snow covers everything. Let’s see how much we get this next storm that may (or may not) come this Wednesday.
    I took a trip up to Boston yesterday and was shocked to see how much snow is still piled up. It’s easy for me to forget that places off Cape don’t seem to melt off as quickly.

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