We Took Note
It did not enter quietly, on gentle tippy-toes as would a guest, entering one's home for the first time, bringing with it the assurance of respect. Instead, it roared through all the interstices of the houses in a great wide swath of North America, inexorably shifting icy molecules of exquisite shapes everywhere it blew in its fury.
Rooftops, already well cushioned with previous weeks' snowfall, welcomed more of the same, and the landscape was visually obliterated by the ferocity of the winds whipping the billowing snow and ice pellets in every direction. As it introduced itself, and as we fully understood the helplessness of our position as reluctant hosts, an awestruck respect was extended from us to the storm.
Although this particular guest had not been invited, we were advised well in advance of the arrival and steeled our resolve to meet it with as politely reserved an attitude as we could muster. This storm moved swiftly but stealthily, as a ghostly presence, throughout the early morning hours well before daylight could reveal its arrival.
That fierce energy prevailed throughout the day, obliterating the far reaches of a blue sky, and the sun that shines there. We lived, albeit temporarily, in a world run amok with ice crystals of marvellous formation. People thought better of throwing caution to this particular wind, and instead opted to refrain from further littering up the roads and highways, leaving their vehicles in their resting position.
That soft white surround whirling in its dervish dance everywhere one looked, softly muffled ambient sound and the eerie landscape dominated everyone's thoughts, content for the moment to remain well sheltered each in their warm domiciles, avoiding the urgency of the approaching Christmas holiday when everyone obeys an inner command to go forth and engage in an age-old ritual leading to multiple gift-giving. None dared to venture outside the comfort of their homes.
The ornamental urns, the birdbaths, the light standards, the hexagonal garden shed glimpsed from front and back windows on occasion through brief lapses in the wind's fury, presented as confections, each with a deep cone of flawless white snow. As though a demented pastry chef devoted to excesses of whipped cream had worked tirelessly to create a landscape punctuated here and there with irresistibly-beckoning works of edible art.
Where our driveway should have been, and our walkway to the front door must still be, there exists only gently undulating hills and graceful valleys. Those letters and cards prepared for mailing will not see themselves deposited this day in the mailbox up the street. It seems pointless to exert energy engaging in the task of shovelling and ploughing the snow steadily accumulating everywhere we look. Great gusts of wind drive excess snow off rooftops in sweeping exhalations of snowdust, adding further to the accumulations down below.
We do exert ourselves at signal times throughout the day to pile on over-sized winter coats, headgear and gloves to shovel the snow off the back deck, off the stairs, away from the various walkways we maintain for the convenience of our two little dogs, at such times when they inform us they can no longer wait. They wander disconsolately in the fresh snow burdening the walkways immediately we have completed our shovelling, do their duty and hasten to return to the warmth of the house.
When this storm eventually works its way out of our atmosphere it will have left a burden of frozen precipitation that may yet mark a record high for this date. A reminder of another such storm which struck this area in the winter of 1970-71; different from the great ice storm of 1998, not quite as environmentally catastrophic in its aftereffects, but certainly notable in its overall effects.
Overnight, we hope the storm will have a lesser impact, gradually making its way in an easterly direction to wreak havoc elsewhere. In the meantime, we have a fresh-baked bread, groaning with the inclusion of whole grains of every variety, and a large pot of soup bubbling on the back burner, replete with beans, barley, lentils, okra, celery, yam, zucchini, tomato, bay leaf and oregano.
Rooftops, already well cushioned with previous weeks' snowfall, welcomed more of the same, and the landscape was visually obliterated by the ferocity of the winds whipping the billowing snow and ice pellets in every direction. As it introduced itself, and as we fully understood the helplessness of our position as reluctant hosts, an awestruck respect was extended from us to the storm.
Although this particular guest had not been invited, we were advised well in advance of the arrival and steeled our resolve to meet it with as politely reserved an attitude as we could muster. This storm moved swiftly but stealthily, as a ghostly presence, throughout the early morning hours well before daylight could reveal its arrival.
That fierce energy prevailed throughout the day, obliterating the far reaches of a blue sky, and the sun that shines there. We lived, albeit temporarily, in a world run amok with ice crystals of marvellous formation. People thought better of throwing caution to this particular wind, and instead opted to refrain from further littering up the roads and highways, leaving their vehicles in their resting position.
That soft white surround whirling in its dervish dance everywhere one looked, softly muffled ambient sound and the eerie landscape dominated everyone's thoughts, content for the moment to remain well sheltered each in their warm domiciles, avoiding the urgency of the approaching Christmas holiday when everyone obeys an inner command to go forth and engage in an age-old ritual leading to multiple gift-giving. None dared to venture outside the comfort of their homes.
The ornamental urns, the birdbaths, the light standards, the hexagonal garden shed glimpsed from front and back windows on occasion through brief lapses in the wind's fury, presented as confections, each with a deep cone of flawless white snow. As though a demented pastry chef devoted to excesses of whipped cream had worked tirelessly to create a landscape punctuated here and there with irresistibly-beckoning works of edible art.
Where our driveway should have been, and our walkway to the front door must still be, there exists only gently undulating hills and graceful valleys. Those letters and cards prepared for mailing will not see themselves deposited this day in the mailbox up the street. It seems pointless to exert energy engaging in the task of shovelling and ploughing the snow steadily accumulating everywhere we look. Great gusts of wind drive excess snow off rooftops in sweeping exhalations of snowdust, adding further to the accumulations down below.
We do exert ourselves at signal times throughout the day to pile on over-sized winter coats, headgear and gloves to shovel the snow off the back deck, off the stairs, away from the various walkways we maintain for the convenience of our two little dogs, at such times when they inform us they can no longer wait. They wander disconsolately in the fresh snow burdening the walkways immediately we have completed our shovelling, do their duty and hasten to return to the warmth of the house.
When this storm eventually works its way out of our atmosphere it will have left a burden of frozen precipitation that may yet mark a record high for this date. A reminder of another such storm which struck this area in the winter of 1970-71; different from the great ice storm of 1998, not quite as environmentally catastrophic in its aftereffects, but certainly notable in its overall effects.
Overnight, we hope the storm will have a lesser impact, gradually making its way in an easterly direction to wreak havoc elsewhere. In the meantime, we have a fresh-baked bread, groaning with the inclusion of whole grains of every variety, and a large pot of soup bubbling on the back burner, replete with beans, barley, lentils, okra, celery, yam, zucchini, tomato, bay leaf and oregano.
Labels: Environment, Whoops
posted by Pieface @ 4:23 PM
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