I watch the great clear twilight Veiling the ice-bowed trees; Their branches tinkle faintly With crystal melodies. The larches bend their silver Over the hush of snow; One star is lighted in the west, Two in the zenith glow. For a moment I have forgotten Wars and women who mourn — I think of the mother who bore me And thank her that I was born.
"Lace and flannel fall
on February ground,
like flocks of woolen lambs
huddled
upon the leafless hills— Tell me,
can you hear the sound of snow,
catch the tranquil meekness
quite unlike the clamor of rain
or the tumult of sleet,
horse hoofs that trample
the cobblestones - ..."
“Stream that leapt and danced Down the rocky ledges, All the summer long, Past the flowered sedges, Under the green rafters, With their leafy laughters, Murmuring your song: Strangely still and tranced, All your singing ended, Wizardly suspended, Icily adream; When the new buds thicken, Can this crystal quicken, Now so strangely sleeping, Once more go a-leaping Down the rocky ledges, All the summer long, Murmuring its song? “ - “The Frozen Stream” by Richard Le Gallienne
A co-worker semi-gloated all last week about how she'll think of us shivering this week while she basks in the sunny southern USA climes.
Well, more power to the snowbirds, but they're missing out on some of the best winter offerings. It may be snowin' and blowin' but the results make for a pristine variety of beauty available for a limited time.
In Missoula, Montana, it snowed pretty much all day Friday.
I love it. It induces calm in me. Well, except when I'm driving out of town and a blizzard whips up. No calm in a white-knuckle death grip on the steering wheel. But this week's snow is the lovely, reverent variety. There’s no quiet exactly like the almost holy hush that comes with fresh, abundant snowfall. If you should be graced with such, whether in the city or the wilderness, it’s worth the effort to imbibe early of the peaceful silence - even if it’s just to open a window and gaze deep - while it lasts.
“Through the wide-open window he could see the evening sky, still grey but faintly luminous and streaked with level cloud. No rain in that sky; only an echo of the peace that held the world in this contented quiet.” - Josephine Tey, from “The Singing Sands”, p.27-28
An early afternoon winter sun, high in the sky, creates replica twigs on the snow‘s surface.
Walking behind our shadows along a Forest Service road, I was reminded of entertaining childhood saunters. After the school bus spit us out at the top of our driveway, we'd dawdle our way to the house, procrastinating against daily chores. Inevitably, one naughty shadow child would box someone else’s shadow head. And thus began a round of shadow pokes, acrobatic kicks and twisting evasions, backed by much giggling and an occasional triumphant “I got you!”. Good times. And no one ever lost an eye. Shadows are amenable that way.
A reminder from my big sister #3: Before giving in to the snow angel urge, make sure a willing and able helper is on hand to pull you up. Key item in this equation is “willing“, which may preclude siblings rumored to have been dropped on their head in early childhood. Even if rumours are unfounded, some may think it great fun to watch and laugh as you ungracefully flounder your way out of the siren snow.
“Art is a harmony parallel with nature.” -Paul Cezanne “The river of time may fork into rivers, in which case you have a parallel reality and so then you can become a time traveler and not have to worry about causing a time paradox.” -Michio Kaku
Best Montana winter entertainment deal: $10 cross-country ski/boots/poles day rental from Bob Ward’s Sporting Goods.
Even counting gas to drive an hour each way, and a small donation in the Nordic Ski Club box, it’s still beats going to the movies - not to mention it’s waaay healthier.