We awoke yesterday to a snowfall which had been going all night. Roads were invisible beneath 6 to 8 inches of snow, sidewalks indistinguishable from them. I jumped out of bed –a very unusual occurrence for me – eager to discover our transformed world. We also wanted to get down to the corner store to stock up a little, just in case. On the way, we met friends and neighbors out for the same reasons. We stopped to exclaim over this world simplified by the white snow into angles and lines and shades of gray and white. Few cars tackled the hidden roads, even on this, a Monday, so the unsullied streets were ours to roam without fear of traffic.
Supplies at the little shop were sparse, not because of hoarding, but because no delivery vans could get through. No milk, no newspapers, no bread. Not a disaster for us, we could easily get by on what we had on hand, except for Bernard’s addiction, the newspaper. Bernard took some beautiful pictures as we wandered around the village and our circuit by the river. We couldn’t drive anywhere because the roads were impassable and our car, in any case, would not have negotiated our steep driveway. Children were out with sleds made out of anything they thought would slide, throwing snowballs and starting snowmen. It was like a holiday, only better for being impromptu.
We came home with numbed toes and fingers to a nice hot cup of tea, and a log fire to warm our bones. Couldn’t watch tv, though – we couldn’t receive good old BBC, not even radio, but hey, it’s good to return to the real world now and then.
Pictures are on Facebook, because I had to download on B’s computer. Sorry.
- Hoar Frost
- Art Class in Albury