Snow what?

Most years, there's time after the holidays to clean up and think about resolutions, stop eating so much and get back to regular exercise. But when snow comes early in January, it's like adding holidays on holidays.

Snow is not the problem, it's the winter storm that brings high wind and low temperatures: this year, down to 4 degrees.  Thank you NOAA and the Weather Service, and especially our local Ray's Weather for the advance notice!

When first predictions come, we hurry to get the car ready, stack firewood, stock the pantry and cancel and reschedule. If there's to be wind, we locate candles and fill a tub with water.

 When the flakes start falling, it's time to be home, and hopefully with no place to go.

It's time to be settled in and warm with a favorite pass-time, like a good novel. Start a fire in the fireplace.

There is nothing more beautiful than a pristine snowfall, unspoiled and soft.

But when the sun comes out, it's time for fun. Some think of hiking, others of sledding.

See that hill over there? Where are the sleds? Making tracks in the snow burns holiday calories.

 Till shadows fall and temperatures drop to dangerous levels and the pond begins to freeze.

There's always tomorrow.

Wish dogs could understand frigid temperatures, because they sure love the snow.

Wintry Blast Pax Us In

They said it would be big. Ten inches maybe?

Clara Statue clothed in snow

Every other time this year, the weather skirted south of us. Not this time.


Bird hideouts

Those south of us got snow, sleet and ice which is treacherous and leads to chaos. Snow is serene and creates a quiet and peaceful new world order.



Things we see everyday are transformed.

White cover for the bowl

Somehow, the urge to travel is snuffed.


Means of transportation

 

It is time to hibernate.



Caroline Statue under a blanket of snow

 

Might as well rest and stay warm.

Triplex for the birds

A few bird feeders can provide endless entertainment. (My daughters are laughing. "You know you are old when....") The birds need a lot of calories to stay warm!

 

 

Goldfinch

 

 Peace is all around. Taking time to notice.

Wishing you all well, Diana

 

 

 

 

Snow-buried Easter

This is Easter week and it has been snowing now for three days, almost continuously.

The first day, flakes were saucers, clumps of freezing condensation with intermittent sleet, then as temperatures fell, there was a white-out of blown snow. Soon, the world was a cupcake iced in white.

 Temperatures fluctuated between the mid-twenties and thirties. At times snow piled up, then near mid-day, there would be a brief melt. But as shadows grew long and darkness fell, more blowing snow coated the ground.

We watched some March Madness, thankful that we still have power. I sewed colorful things. He worked on taxes. By night, we made a fire in the fireplace, ate comfort food and hoped to see the moon. The night was black, though, clouded and thick, deep in moist cold, brightened only by the house lights on snow. To the fire, we added damp logs that burned red and popped in the fireplace like gunfire.  

 

By morning, a dense blanket  has silenced the world. Birds that sang last week hide muted within the heavy-laden branches of evergreens and rabbits huddle underneath. Frogs have gone back into soundless hibernation in the rocks around the pond. There is a break in the flurries and the humble daffodils seem to smile.

The porch rockers are still, ghostly observers to notice the white banks across the valley, the visibility of the forest floor and its contours.

Again as the temperature drops, flurries swirl. The wind howls and we pull up an extra blanket for another night of snow.

The third day breaks in a solid white churning fog. Hold out your hand. You can touch it, taste it. The wind has blown some snow away, but there is more to come.

I am thinking of cherry blossoms, of dogwoods and rhododendron. This is a different kind of beauty, a different kind of Easter preparation.

Welcome St. Patrick!!

 

Bring us green! Finally, Narcissus.

For me, the austerity of Lent goes with winter, but dear St. Patrick, why give up anything more than flowers? 


A Point of View in Winter

March is a long month here. Down east, spring has already budded, but here, folks are still cooking hearty meals and careful about when to get outside. There is some gradual greening, but against a yellow-brown backdrop of hibernating hills and a leafless tree-line. Perennials are dormant, most underground and invisible. We are told not to plant because "there'll be another frost," maybe even a hard freeze. "Just hold off," they say, "till about Mother's Day." 



Hoarfrost on a distant mountain-top


I've learned that the last snow days are not as romantic and festive as the first few, but I've also learned that if I will just get outdoors, or sit by a window and look out, there is color and texture everywhere. I get inspired to pull out fabrics and create something. Each year, I try to make at least one treasure I can keep; it's become a tradition.



Wall-hanging for Christmas





This tradition began when my friend Sherry brought her sewing machine for a longer-than-usual winter visit. The visit was to be longer because she was fighting Hairy-cell Leukemia with chemotherapy and trying to stay away from crowds of people while her white cell count was down.
 

 
She brought the sewing machine because she was busy making heirloom treasures for her daughter, Nicole whose wedding was to be held in August, under our cherry tree. We spent a lot of time outdoors that winter walking and studying the colors and textures of the landscape. Sherry was upbeat, postive and cheerful. She was also busy creating beautiful things.
 


Sherry working on an appliqued quilt.



Frozen Pond



Puple and Ochre Near Tracks in the Snow

My Wall-hanging for Valentine's Day



Sherry's Wedding Shawl for Nicole with the Cherry Tree in the Background



Gift-bags made out of a pair of old jeans.


Lately I've enjoyed scheduling Sew-Days with another group of friends. We call ourselves (mostly all Scotch-Irish descendants) the Creekies, because we all live on or near Helton Creek in Ashe County. It's the old sewing bee renewed. 


Creekies, with a healthy Sherry visiting 8 years later

 

Snow Melt



We think of something to work on, gather fabrics and trims, spread it all out and start combining things. Even friends who have never sewn a stitch like to match colors, cut patterns, and iron the seams flat. Three of us who sew put our machines on various sides of the long dining room table and piece things together. Someone puts out food and serves beverages, and we have fellowship of a priceless kind. Then we take home small treasures to give away. Last year, we made gift bags and this year pillow-cases.



Gift Bags for Special Occasions







Small Pillowcase for a Grandchild


Yesterday, as I was looking for inspiration in the library, two new titles caught my eye. The first was about how friends and family impact your life, and I felt happy that I have learned that lesson. The other I checked out and brought home, Peaceful Pieces, Poems and Quilts about Peace. I recommend it for the beautiful words and pictures, especially if you read to children. (Click on the title to see the book.)

St. Patrick is known for his way of teaching Christianity to the pagan tribes of Ireland by successfully incorporating nature and familiar traditions. So, here is my tribute to St. Patrick as I wait for the greening of Spring and the blooming of Easter. I keep hearing, "It'll be here before you know it!"




Table-runner for Easter



 
 

Red Fox in the Snow



The following is a story I imagined from this painting of a peaceful small village in the South of France after a rare snow. The painting is the creative work of Jane Johnson of West Jefferson, NC. We collaborated for an art exhibit called, "More than Words," at the Ashe Arts Center in September, 2012.



Painting by Jane Johnson of West Jefferson, NC

Red Fox in the Snow

Life changes and changes live. The frolicking vixen becomes a mother with five kits to feed. Call me Red. You know me.

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Just last week in the South of France, the weather was dry, warm and luxurious, but this week brought the unexpected snow. Only yesterday, Lady Jeanne of the House worked outdoors gathering sticks and hauling off debris. One moment she worked under a bright blue sky as a light wind spread a fresh cool. The wind grew strong though and whipped the creaky trees. It howled louder by the hour with dark clouds building, and when it finally stopped, we were surrounded by a silent leaden stillness.

The snow started at nightfall, and by morning, we had a white new world. It has been such fun for my kittens, so new! I can hear the scratching of a mouse under the blanket right in front of me, a hardier kind of food for the family waiting now in the cold den. As this day ends and night returns, I will deliver the fresh meat and then return in cover of dark for the pomegranate.

My life has been a short eight years. Lady Jeanne is ninety but she may have more years left than I do. I am not afraid of her. She watches me through the window and sometimes leaves morsels on her doorstep like my favorite melon and tips of squashes and eggplant. I don’t think she minds sharing her pomegranates. It is a good thing because there is no camouflaging myself in this snow.

During spring and summer, I foraged for flowers that bloomed on the shrubs and the fruits that came after. Those were tasty, but since the apples of autumn, finding fruit is much harder. The long-lasting pomegranate here is a lucky find. The fruit remains on the branches into winter, drying and hardening, but inside there are juicy seeds with a lingering tang of late summer. Lady Jeanne knows I take one now and then. You can bet I’ve marked my territory.

The seasons affect changes within the pond too. Fish are delicious but hard to catch except in summer when the water is warm and minnows swim close to the bank. It is easier to catch frogs and big-eyed grasshoppers. Lizards and small snakes have completely disappeared in the cold.

How well the trees dress for the seasons. In spring they wear pastel pink buds and chartreuse leaves, and then for summer they change into deep verdant greens. By fall, they’re all wearing madras! In winter, a time when they bare most of their bark, ours are cloaked in mistletoe. Others don only a pearly broach of it. Today, they all wear robes of snow.

Weather is not too hard on the structures here, though there is some wearing of stone, rusting of metal and warping of wood over time. Lady Jeanne has seen more of that than I will ever see. She stores potatoes and carrots in a root cellar, and she is a foxy lady. I can’t dig into it. The walls are too thick.

Soon after the ides of winter, a funny little boy comes to visit Lady Jeanne. Any day, he will arrive again with the others, and then I will bring all my kits and we will watch them in the warm house through the windows. Their gifts will be more than food, but late at night, I expect there will be delicious morsels we have never tasted left for us on the doorstep. For this it is hard to wait.

 Diana Renfro, 2012

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