I just couldn't resist a walk on the wild side, so to speak, during blizzard "Skylar", last Tuesday. I plunged myself into a treasure hunt of sorts in the midst of the storm. What fun it was to discover the assorted bounty which awaited me, as I made my way through the "black and white" winter, world inside a wall-less, snow globe.
Despite the appearance of a dichromatic landscape, I found so much more. There were various pops of color in surprising places, a sign of impatience and tenacity which reminded me of how the rest of us are feeling about now. I discovered the lingering tints and hues of the last seasons growth all around me. Mother Nature's canvas provided some fun and unexpected bits of vibrancy amidst the appearance of sterile, geometrical scaffolding. It was interesting to see what seemed to be bleak, and bland from afar, and change into something else entirely upon closer inspection. The black and bland seemed to fracture into a kaleidoscope of blacks, and browns, various grays, taupes, whites, tans, yellows, greens and even creamy ivory and sharp whites. This was especially true on the bark of the trees, or the cedar garden posts, and along branches of trees. I was amazed that regardless of each microscopic quilt of wonder before me, once I had stepped back, the view changed. It returned quickly to dark contrasting against light, with the draped snow around me, rising into the cloudy, heavy gray of the sky, and swirling squalls of snow.
I was quickly impressed to see the remnants of color. What was once rich, glowing autumnal colors, had hardened into lighter or darker hiesnof their former selves, and held fast onto withered branches, and skeletal stems. It was electrifying to be forging through three feet of cold snow. Snow which had absolutely no interest in moving out of my way, easily. The deep, frozen cold seemed to be pushing back in resistance to being disrupted, and dislodged with every. single. plodding. step. I. made.
Each time I stopped to catch my breath, I would take in the wonder of seeing the billowy white puffs of my breath. The clouds of warm air decorated by lobbing, lofty snowflakes and glittery, sequined sleet. These all seemed to drift about ,zip by or come directly at me all at once. Little slivers of sleet would striking in swift, independently kamikaze-style missions hitting my face. These were intermixed by cottony-fluff flakes which would then land, melting gently. It seemed as if they were sent to comfort or ask forgiveness for their sharper, more boisterous, less charming mates.
All in all, I am so grateful that I took this little trek outdoors to feel the mightiness of the storm. My little excursion made me sad that winter was coming to an end. Now, as we sit in frigid zero digit temps , just five days later, I have regained some of my wits. I am grateful for the longer days, and looking forward to warmth from somewhere besides indoors. I am excited at the fertile activity which will soon be starting in the orchard. This is all due to the vast quantity of late winter, frozen rain! Bring on the big melt and let's make our way into spring!
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