Snow!

Winter, in my childhood (and most adult) days meant snow, lots of it. Christmases were white and January deep and dark. We spent hours traipsing through snow up to our knees and drifts waist high. We walked around the block atop piles of snow created by the ever-passing snowplow. We tried, in vain, to shovel the driveway before Dad returned home from work, but found the task monumental. Dad, with shovel in hand, became a snow moving superhero.


We've had two, maybe three, good snowfalls this season and we're creeping up on February, so I was just a tad disappointed that I didn't have more than a few minutes to capture winter's glory yesterday morning. I took my camera with me just in case and was blessed to have time to drive down by Irondequoit Bay and over the outlet bridge on my way to Rochester.

 Traffic was mostly nonexistent on my way up toward Rt 590 and I stopped to catch the snow highlighting every branch and needle on an evergreen tree along the way.

My friend at work was anxious again today. Once she was tucked into bed for an hour and a half, I gazed out the window at the snow laden courtyard, read my books, and wrote in my notebook. The snow outside was heavy, the wet and sticky kind that turns an otherwise gray and dreary landscape into a winter wonderland. It was a snow fight/snowman building kind of day, but I did none of that. Instead I soaked in the beauty of winter as I walked out in the dark to clean off my vehicle and make the drive home. Even in the dark snow is magical.