It was so beautiful yesterday afternoon. Sunshine melted the morning’s fog, puddles of water replaced black ice, and after a week-end unable to get up our icy road, the plow man sanded it and I was free to come and go. Once I got home from town in the late afternoon, I trudged down to the water through knee-high snow, and listened to the waterfowl calling to one another across the still and silent blue lake. I remembered what Summer is like and it was a much-needed tonic for my soul.
With Don off to the races in Reno, I was alone this week-end and dedicated myself to finally cleaning the upstairs bedrooms of the post-Christmas celebration. I started in the dormitory room, with all the Goldilocks beds lined up in a row. I wondered how the grandkids were able to tape Christmas lights so high up the wall–maybe they stood on the headboards, and where did they find all those extension cords? The pop-up Winter Wonderland Christmas book was under a bed–the one I couldn’t find anywhere before they arrived. Cormac’s Santa pajamas were under another. Pillows from all over the house were positioned in the window seat, and I thought about who sat there, reading, drawing or talking with one another. Some sort of alien Lego creature sat in a bowl on the dresser. Mattresses on all the beds were askew, evidence of the pre-bedtime racing and jumping adventures. I didn’t get much further than stripping the beds and getting sheets into the washing machine before I quit. I was just so tearfully sad.
We are in the dreaded freeze/thaw cycle so our road gets glazed with ice over deep snow. I usually don’t mind being trapped at the house, but it was different this time. Glad to put the day to bed, I awakened yesterday with new-found courage to tackle our icy road. Fish-tailing all the way up, I made it into town for a much-needed yoga class and human companionship. When the sun came out, and I watched the light leave the sky all afternoon from my sanctuary of home, I thought that it’s worth any price to have a winter’s day such as this.
It’s raining here this morning and drops are pregnantly hanging from all the branches. I walked up our road to see if I’ll be able to get out to the airport today, and all looks passable– off to join Don for his race in Reno, and my sister, Joy, is flying in for the excitement. I’m thawing out, now, but it is early in Winter. I re-read Wallace Stevens “The Snow Man” poem this morning, for a little extra help.