That’s how much snow we got yesterday. Yahoo! I understand New York City got a lot of snow last week, and bully for them; but when the winter gets nasty I’d rather be in the country. There is an indescribable snugness in being snowed in to your own forest cabin that I’m not sure I’d compare to being stuck in your third floor flat in the city, hoping you don’t run out of Cheez-its. We lived in Chicago before we came here, and we had some substantial snowfalls there, but I like this better.
The snowfall started heavy yesterday morning and kept up all day. At about 2:30 Jessica called me at work saying there was better than 30” of snow on the ground, the power was out (she was using our old corded phone, which we keep for just such occasions), and recommending that I leave work early and get home before dark. The gravel road hadn’t been plowed since morning, and our driveway, already steep and icy, was filled to the level with fresh snow. I escaped work after 3, and providentially followed one snowplow or another most of the way home. The light was mostly gone by the time I crossed the bridge onto our back road, and drove down the road in a trench exactly the width of a snowplow blade.
I missed the turnoff to our road because the snow berms were so high. The road was full of snow, but there were tire tracks to follow. The snow was so deep I was pushing it with my bumper, and it flew up into my windshield so fast and thick the wipers couldn’t keep up. (I had to keep my momentum to climb the hill.) When I got to our driveway I found it plowed thanks to our friend from a mile to the east, thank you thank you! Even in 4WD low I struggled up the driveway, but I made it.
Jess was down by the garden, taking care of the snowed-in chickens. I grabbed a shovel and chest-waded down to the greenhouse, not wanting the weight of snow to crack the glass roof. The snow was so deep I felt like I was swimming. Leaving a crest of snow four feet high on the ridge of the greenhouse roof (that part is a 4×6 wooden beam that can bear the weight), I then waded down to shovel off the roof of the bike shed.
Wow, what a storm! I went out last night to survey the world, now transformed into a landscape of pillows and enormous white stalagmites that once were trees. Then I came back into the warm bright house, echoing with laughter, shining with firelight, and smelling of cinnamon rolls fresh from the oven. I’ll take that any day.
(Pix to come.)