Sunrise is muffled by a pale veil, but the snowy ground glows. The scene framed by my window pane looks like spray paint on sidewalk chalk: The sky is three pastel blue-pink-orange layers and the distant hills are soft purple, but the yard is neon blue. I can see neither road or roofs for snow. All is clear, piercing, opaque blue below the sherbet sky.
This snowy morning led me to reread my posts from Maine and NYC winters. Below are snippets from a few winter oldies:
“Brooklyn’s shore looks wiped with gray water color- my vision is muffled by the swirling snow. Crystals hit the water near my boots and float for a moment before they become water too.” from Snow on a Beach
“Clumsy wondering flurries seem to have no idea where the ground is and don’t care much about getting there. They drift left, right and up and collide often.” from Three Kinds of Snow
“Everyone likes to feel fresh snow’s crunch under their boots. Old footprints are treated like landmines to avoid. Later, this unadulterated slope will be dimpled with meandering sets of footprints.” from January 2011
“Every summer I forget what the gray the brown and the white looks like. Every winter I can’t fully recall lush.” from March 2015
One Thousand Gifts lists:
Heavy branches of snowy evergreens
Winter-cool wood floors under quick bare feet in morning
Clustered chunks of snowflakes
Compact snow plummeting like pellets
Snow falling up
Warm mug in cold hands
Snow on a beach
Snow on horses
RELATED POSTS:
