Friday, February 15, 2013

Snowbound


I can’t say I’ve “never” experienced a storm like this; I’ve lived through a lot of Maine snowstorms.  But this one is certainly a biggie and the line that keeps running through my mind is from Rudolph when Santa says – “It’s the stor-r-r-m of the century!” (And that’s why they need Rudolph’s red nose…and finally stop bullying him.)

The wind was whipping so loud in the night, I feared the new shingles would rip off our roof.  The window panes had snow drifts…on the second floor.  It felt like The Wizard of Oz’s tornado where I might see a cow flying by my upstairs window or the evil neighbor (a.k.a. the Wicked Witch of the West) pedaling her bike swiftly by, in my dream state, with Toto poking his head out of her basket.  Topsy turvey.  Everything felt chaotic. Nature was commanding, loud, and violent.

Despite the scary parts of storms, and the real damage they inflict on so many people, there is something cozy about pulling inward and hunkering down with just your family.  You can’t go out, can’t do errands, sometimes can't watch television or type on the computer or do any of the “normal” things you typically do….and that’s the beauty.  It’s a forced shut down.

The night of the storm, the four of us watched a movie, something we’ve not done together for a very long time – nowhere to go, nothing to do...why not?  Outside, the wind whipped and the snow piled up.  

I am so grateful for heat, a sturdy home, living far enough away from the ocean to avoid flooding, and having my husband to protect us…and snowblow.  I’m so thankful for the quiet break inside.  

 I’m also a grateful witness to the beauty of a snowstorm and the feet of glistening white snow surrounding us when it’s over when, like Dorothy, we gently push open the back door and step outside slowly, eyes blinking in the bright light of the sunshine afterward.  

It’s rather dramatic of me to call my post “snowbound,” but fun to do so.  The camp we rent in Rangeley – now there we’d be snowbound – 10 miles into the woods, cannot see the closest neighbor, heavily snow laden pines, a blazing fire to keep us warm, no city snow plows.   

Mmmm….maybe someday a snowstorm there…..and it will be even more cozy and thrilling!

Photos:  view of my neighbor's house, the snow against my deck doors