After the snow...

It snowed all night.  The wind picked up a bit before I started chores, whipping the snow around me and stuffing it down my collar, under my eye glasses and into the space between my gloves and jacket.  I carried a heavy jug of water and gave the ducks and chickens a big drink.  Chanel and Abraham waded through the snow, calling to me. They wanted more food, and I obliged.  Carrying a few flakes of hay out to the shed. I had to laugh when I got there, they still had plenty from the night before.

The rabbits water bowls were full of ice. I smashed them over and over on a hard surface until the ice shattered.  I filled them back up with water from the horse bucket, and hoped the rabbits were smart enough to drink deeply while they can, because the ice will be back in no time.  I hand out carrots and celery and treats. The snow is up over my knees, stinging my eyes and skin with every gust.

The white is over Bravo's head in spots, but that does not keep him from leaping in, like a fox after a rodent. Spring, dive, face deep in the snow, tail up.  He is happy. He is also happy that there are paths from the snow blower. 

It snowed all day. The wind howling and whistling. 

It stuffed snow between the storm window and the interior window.  The Driftwind sign once hung at my grandparents house. It seemed like fate that where it sits is the one window so treated by the wind. 

We took turns with the snow blower. Rachel did most of the work, but I tried the beast for the first time. Chris got frosted during his stint... 

I shoveled two sets of stairs as the weak sun was going down. The drifts were 3 feet in spots.  As I worked some flakes still swirled around prettily. I felt a pang of regret, "I didn't enjoy it enough." I thought.  "I should have spent more time looking out the window instead of doing research. I should have taken a walk when it was still blowing hard, before it was over." And then I wondered, "Is that how it will be at the end of my life?  Will I think 'I didn't enjoy it enough?'" I hope not.

Life, like this storm, is flying past on swift wings. It needs to be savored.