We were supposed to have another blizzard today. The snow is already deep... our picnic table is completely and totally hidden beneath a blanket of white, not even a lump or hump to show its existence. The storm moved away from us, though, and we only got a few inches of light, powdery snow. But it was COLD and we did have wind.
The wind blew the snow around the roof and walls, swirling it past the windows so thick we could not see out. It buffeted the house, and caused the trees around us to dance and sway to the unearthly beat. It had a voice, loud and shrill and eerie.
If I paused while out taking care of the livestock I could feel the wind, icy on my skin. Beyond that, the snow made the wind visible.
This entity that is an invisible part of our daily lives? Suddenly I could see it. Snow swirled and eddied and dipped. It lifted and spun and swirled on the currents. Around the house, over the pasture, through the meadow. The light snow gave the wind a cold face.
And it is cold. -18 yesterday morning, single digits for most of today. The wind made it feel colder. Bundled up in Carhart overalls and a coat, heavy boots and two pair of gloves, I still became totally chilled while hauling water and hay and grain to the animals.
The chickens and ducks are coop bound due to the cold. I know they are bored, so today I hung a fresh cabbage in the hen house. By evening it was gone, every bit of its green goodness tucked into crops hungry for something other than the boring (but expensive) pellets I buy them. I added snips of cabbage to the ducks water bowl, and they happily gobbled it up.
I made frequent trips to the goat and pony shed, bringing hot water laced with molasses as a treat on a cold day. And all the while the wind blew and eddied about, showing itself as it danced a shameless, screaming, promenade.