Monday, March 2, 2009

In Like a Lion

I'm watching the juncos struggle with the snow, trying to find places to land where their small feet don't push right through the soft powers and leave them belly-first on the snow.They've begun to take refuge on the rungs of our outdoor table and the edges of some flower pots that never came in.I threw bread out there for them, figuring as how I had not refilled the birdfeeder this week and it was looking very low. They are industriously excavating the snow for the chunks and crumbs that fell in and virtually disappeared when I threw them. Who knew bread could be that heavy?
at times the wind will blow like crazy, driving all the snow sideways. For a long time there was very bad visibility. I could tell where our pine tree was in the back, but not much else. For once, a Snowpocalypse lived up to its name.

Take a look for yourself. It's completely white out there, but yet manages to be dark somehow. I've often loved how the natural world can just neatly provide such seeming dualities.
Normally, where the thin line of grey extends across the back of the picture, there is a rise, some woods, and then a highway. It's completely gone, and that's honestly about half a mile away. So the next time the weather forecast says "visibility down to 1/4 mile" and I wonder what that looks like.... now I know.
Watching the white dust devils that spring up with every gust has been great. They whirl and swirl and obliterate everything, rolling across the fields back there, or through the streets in front of the house, then it settles down to the silent sound of snow again.
The roofs across the street have been stripped of all but the really tenacious, wet snow in the winds. I imagine ours must look the same. I've often marvelled at now much snow and sand behave the same. This has drifted and eddied around and come to rest in dunes and rises and serpentine patterns. Except that instead of being the minutest bit of stone, it's crystallized water.
The tracks left by my little juncos have been completely covered in a matter of minutes, and they've abandoned the bread, which is being covered with snow as we speak. Hopefully when everything calms down they'll be able to make use of it. For now they're probably smart to go hole up in the pine tree across from us and wait out this mess.
I, by the way, am home for the day and enjoying the sights. I intend to run outside and make a snow angel in a bit after I get something useful done first. Like laundry. Or confirming I won the lottery on Sunday.

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