On a windy day with new snow covering the ground, it seemed the whole landscape was in turmoil. It started with a new blanketing of snow, about 5 inches, following by temperatures that dropped below zero and only rose to a high of 18 during the day. So it was fine snow, easily persuadable, easily moved in any way the winds sought to carry it.
It cascaded from cabin roofs and enveloped trees. In every direction, curtains of white would obscure parts of the landscape and then moments later lift to reveal an aspen grove, the meadow, a cabin, the road or the range of mountains rising to the north. It was like a stage play, with new revelations at every turn.
It felt chaotic, because the winds weren’t moving in a steady pace from west to east, the dominant direction, but creating whirlpools that rose up suddenly from the ground, as if prompted by some invisible forces, and spun uselessly before dropping to the ground, exhausted.
There were periods of relative calm, when the winds would slow, and the landscape became familiar. But then the winds would gather speed again, sending more plumes of snow into the air, sometimes lifting them into the sky, like fairy dust reaching for the edges of the earth.
There was only one thing to do: let the clouds engulf me. Maybe I could lose track of myself--and the world.
What a splendid painting-in-words—or perhaps, given all the movement involved, more of a movie … I can see it just as you describe.
Posted by: Jennifer Woodhull | February 08, 2020 at 11:11 AM
Beautiful writing. I am amazed by your ability to describe nature's many moods in ways that make me feel as if I am there with you, observing it all.
Posted by: Julene Bair | February 08, 2020 at 12:23 PM
Nice photos of the windy snow day. Favorite words, "...like fairy dust reaching for the edges of the earth."
Posted by: Brent Zeinert | February 15, 2020 at 03:17 PM