Sunday, November 28, 2010


There is snow on the ground and on the old trees, a thin skim of glassy ice on the pond. The winter sun rising flashes a pale gold across the pewter sky, lighting up the grove of pines where I am standing for just a moment. Everything else is muted and rather hazy this morning, and the damp cold goes right through to the bones.

Late November finds a northern dweller perched like an indomitable bird, perhaps a nuthatch, between Samhain (or Halloween) and the frantic scurryings of Yuletide. Migratory birds are long gone for the most part, although geese remain in the fields and will be here for some time yet.

The landscape is a pallid sepia study crowned from here to there with skeletal whiskery trees and crunching field grasses. An excoriating wind roars across the highlands and whips through the hollows, scouring the earth, driving fallen leaves, pebbles and small branches before it. The rocks at the bottom of the gorge are lashed with torrents of water a few degrees above freezing, the granite is lavishly coated, shiny and sporting the season's first slick shards of lacy ice.

This weather is raw and wild and very exhilarating stuff when one is in the mood and wearing both winter woolies and oilskins. Here we go again - another long white season in which one dresses up in every warm garment she possesses, slings a camera around her neck, fills her pockets with peripheral devices, then goes off to plumb the mysteries of winter.


One Woman's Journey - a journal being written from Woodhaven - her cottage in the woods. said...

Your gift of words - brings a chill upon me as I sit at the computer. You are brave. Although it has a beauty I just cannot venture out in weather that cold. Stay warm and healthy.

the wild magnolia said...

The northland winters are raw and wild. And I agree with the first comment, you are brave.

Keep the woolies on for sure.


Tabor said...

Ah, yes, being in the mood. THAT has been my problem, must fix that.

judy said...

Having a dog probably makes a big difference to one's mood about going out in the snow and cold, ladies. I doubt I would be as interested to go out there were it not for my furry girl's enthusiasm!

Unknown said...

Indeed, seeing a dog bounding about in the snow makes it much easier to handle =)

silverlight said...

the, black female toy-miniature poodle I had, long ago. I had long ago, loved the snow as much as water.
When we went out to walk, she would dive headfirt into a small drift and scoot along, like a plow. she would come out so pleased wih herself.
then shake the snow off, all over me.

Angie said...

You have such a gift for drawing us right into your world...thank you for that. I will never 'see' your part of the world physically, but I feel as if I've taken every walk, drawn every icy breath, stopped in my tracks in delight and wonder....through your blog.