Yesterday was a quiet grey day, not a moment of sunshine, not a hint of colour in the landscape. At sunset, a heavy snow began to fall, and it continued to fall all through the night. When I opened the draperies this morning and looked out into the garden, the world was a different place, streets submerged in pristine whiteness, trees plumed and bending down under the weight of the night's cold gift. This morning, my garden is a small chambered desert, one in which all the drifts and flowing curves are formed by fresh fallen snow, rather than sand or stone. There is no sound at all, just the bounty of this wonderful blue silence, a stillness so perfect and complete that one can hear the snow falling. . . .
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Snow Day
Yesterday was a quiet grey day, not a moment of sunshine, not a hint of colour in the landscape. At sunset, a heavy snow began to fall, and it continued to fall all through the night. When I opened the draperies this morning and looked out into the garden, the world was a different place, streets submerged in pristine whiteness, trees plumed and bending down under the weight of the night's cold gift. This morning, my garden is a small chambered desert, one in which all the drifts and flowing curves are formed by fresh fallen snow, rather than sand or stone. There is no sound at all, just the bounty of this wonderful blue silence, a stillness so perfect and complete that one can hear the snow falling. . . .
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1 comment:
And I hope you are curled up by the fire with a cup of tea and ensconced in your chair with a good book.
Many miles to the south, our snow has melted and the ice is gone and we are left with the browns and grays and wet soggy leaves that didn't get raked before the first snowfall caught us by surprise.
I wonder if you will be out exploring later in the day?
Love,
Animas
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