The still ecstasy
“There is nothing in the world more beautiful than the forest clothed to its very hollows in snow. It is the still ecstasy of nature, wherein every spray, every blade of grass, every spire of reed, every intricacy of twig, is clad with radiance.” — William Sharp
This isn’t the post I had scheduled for today, but I couldn’t let the gorgeous snow disappear without mentioning the record-setting blizzards that covered so much of the country last week. I was in Atlanta when the storms hit the DC area, and found myself stranded there as I rescheduled my flights twice before being able to get home.
Luckily, the frustration of being stuck was tempered by having more time with Mama, Grady, and others I love. I had thought I was going to miss the flight disruptions because I flew in and out of Richmond, Virginia, instead of Washington DC. I was wrong. The Richmond airport was closed for a shorter time than the DC area airports, but long enough to change my plans.
Even Atlanta got a little bit of snow. A VERY little bit, as it turned out, but still enough to close the schools early, in the time-honored deep south tradition of
freaking out at enthusiastic celebration of the very mention of snow. About which, more to come in a scheduled post that, oddly enough, was written just before the forecasts of blizzards to come.
Despite the inconvenience of schedule changes, I must admit I found last week exciting in some respects. I can’t remember when more of the country was getting huge amounts of snow at the same time. When we arrived back in the DC area Monday night, we were delighted to find that our thoughtful next door neighbors had shoveled the snow from our parking spaces, walkways and front porch — a good thing, since the snow now is piled literally six feet high in some places. My appreciation of kind friends and efficient road crews is at record highs to match the beautiful white drifts.
The past two days have been sunny and relatively warm, so the snows are melting fast. I shoveled part of our deck today, and the creek behind our house is singing a lovely song as the water runs freely through the banks of white. I have felt anxious and sad for those who were drastically affected by the weather, and mindful of how fortunate we were to have nothing more than schedule changes to endure. But even knowing the havoc the weather can bring, the beauty of it still takes my breath away.
Did you avoid Snowmageddon 2016, or were you among those of us snuggled up indoors, sipping hot tea and sleeping in and generally making the best of being trapped inside? Feel free to send us updates, photos and stories– and stay warm and cozy as we remind ourselves that spring REALLY WILL be here before we know it.