Saturday, January 06, 2018

The Silent Season



Announced by all the trumpets of the sky, arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields, seems nowhere to alight: the whited air hides hill and woods, the river, and the heaven, and veils the farmhouse at the garden's end.  ~from The Snow-Storm by Ralph Waldo Emerson



The pond near my house is silent now, its water caught in an icy grip. The lowering gray clouds reflect themselves on the frozen surface except where the broken shadows of stark and leafless trees form delicate branching patterns. The air is as still as the water, and quiet, as though the earth were holding its breath. I stand and idly watch a blue jay forage in the brush. I can smell the coming snow, a faint metallic scent underlying the odor of crushed pine needles beneath my feet. The bird, too, must sense the change in weather for it is searching with gusto, hopping and scratching in the fallen leaves.

Already a few errant flakes drift down, presaging the storm to come. The earth will benefit from a heavy snowfall. I remember winters here as a child, when snow would stay on the ground from shortly after Thanksgiving until the warming April sun melted it into streaming silver rivulets.

Grandpa Gordon, who farmed next door, used to call snow “poor man’s’ fertilizer, explaining to a baffled little girl how it acted not only as an insulating blanket, but contained nitrogen which benefited the sleeping plants. And when all that snow melted, it was as good as falling rain, he told me, quoting the old saying that ten inches of fresh snow equaled an inch of water. (In reality, according to the National Weather Service, ten inches of new snow can contain as little as .10 inches of water to nearly four inches, depending on whether the snow that falls is light and fluffy or wet and heavy.)

Statistics and inconvenience aside, the snow will be welcomed. It’s what winter in New England is all about. I’ve shoveled enough of the white stuff to know that beauty has its price, yet the way the land looks after a fresh snowfall can take one’s breath away. Think how it mounds and heaps and swirls, how all that is bleak and bare and brown becomes magical. Where the sun shines, rainbow jewels are strewn across white velvet, and where shadows wait, the white turns to amethyst.

I want to be standing outside when the flakes fall thickly, whispering down from invisible clouds, dropping on my upturned face like a benediction. I want enough snow to send my sled racing down West’s hill, enough to let my skis glide along the wooded wagon track behind my house, enough to hold me up when I flop down to make snow angels. And when all is said and done, I want the moon to shine a silver path where I can walk at midnight, needing no other light.

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7 comments:

The Furry Gnome said...

Beautifully said.

Out on the prairie said...

I always like to make the first footprints in new snow. It is nice to be out in a good storm

Wisewebwoman said...

I come here to be drenched in your beautiful prose and am never disappointed.

XO
WWW

Barbara said...

You can make the simple so rich! I know exactly what you mean by this... "I want to be standing outside when the flakes fall thickly, whispering down from invisible clouds, dropping on my upturned face like a benediction." We actually had a rare snowfall in December and I did exactly that... ran outside and turned my face up to the sky to feel the snowflake kisses. So magical! Thank you for your words and happy New Year!! xoxo

Barb said...

Wow - I am with you in this scene as your words transport me to the beauty of winter. We sure could use some of that snow here in Breckenridge, CO.

baili said...

what beautiful and poetic piece of writing my friend!!!

you made me as i am there with you to absorb the beauty and serenity of this grey gloomy weather and noisy silence which ask one to ponder ,to observe ,to absorb and to feel the different kind of loveliness of this part of land

we visit sometime to snowy area in north (pakistan) and they look so appealing!

but here in south sun seems in pleasant mood now days ,hiding behind the clouds or little pouring once a while and that's all

Pauline said...

Furry Gnome - thank you :)

OOTP - my feelings exactly!

WWW - I am so glad you come. I feel the same about your writing.

Thank you, Barbara - you know all about making the simple rich :)

Barb - I'd send some if I could!

Baili - welcome and thank you for commenting. I love when the sun is in a pleasant mood :)