I’d heard there was a big storm coming in but I didn’t believe it. I kept waking up at night to see if it was snowing yet, but of course I saw nothing, on account of its being dark and all.
Around 7:00 I tromped downstairs in my slippers and, sure enough, snow was falling like nobody’s business. Two little birds had gotten into the barn and were slamming their poor little heads into the plate glass window, over and over. I managed to scoop one of them out, but the other just sat there slack-beaked, so I moved her to a draft-free place on top of a Norman Rockwell calendar and went back into my apartment.
At around 8:00 as it started getting light I looked out the window and was in my own snow globe. I could almost see the word “Vermont” in gilded letters at my feet, which by that time were encased in my new $40 knockoff Sorrells.
Back downstairs I looked out the barn door and saw no evidence of my neighbors budging from their cozy apartments, nor of a snowplow.
Then, what to my wondering eyes should appear from around the corner but a snowman with a gun.
My booted and pajama’d self took a second to realize it as Chris, Shannon’s partner just back from Alaska last week. We got to talking and I like him a lot, even though he gets up early to shoot things. I was fascinated by the tracking strategies he uses, and the technical matters like what kinds of gun you can use when. At the moment, the only guns allowed are muzzle-loaders, whose operation he demonstrated to me. By the end of our chat, I was starting to think like a deer: something hunters have to do. With that knowledge I will endeavor to avoid apple trees in the snow, particularly if I’m wearing antlers on my head.
I thought for sure that we’d have a snow day at school, but this e-mail arrived at 8:20:
Subject: SIT is open today, but be careful if you’re driving
SIT is open today and we will have our internship orientation session this morning. However, if you are driving, be very careful on the roads. If you do not feel you can get into school because of the weather conditions, please let me know and we’ll plan a make up session.
I vacillated between the need for safety and the need for education. Neither won. What pushed me out onto the road was my fear of being a wuss. If I’m going to live in Vermont, I’d better get used to driving in the snow.
It was not easy. I had very little control over the car, between the depth of the snow and what must’ve been ice underneath. It would have been a blast, all that fishtailing and careening toward banks, if I hadn’t been in danger of driving into a tree or off a cliff. I do actually know the theory of snow driving, but making it up a steep and winding hill of ice is no picnic. Here are pictures of a calmer part of the road, and of my school:
Some people were surprised to see me on campus, knowing the challenges of my road. I spent the entire class worrying about getting home, as the snow continued to pile on.
Then came another e-mail from the school at 11:30 a.m.:
Subject: [mat41] Campus closing due to weather
Due to deteriorating weather and road conditions, the World Learning campus will be closing at 12:30 today; offices will be closed and afternoon classes are cancelled. Please be careful as you travel home!
Now they tell me.
By the time I got back to my car, it had three new inches on it. Halfway home, the pond was partially frozen in little striations. I swerved and slid and my way back to my barn. My mailbox was empty, but pretty.
I took a little walk along the road. It had started to sleet. I’m glad to be in the country where the palette is all white and brown with occasional bits of red, as you can see. This last photo is my usual foot-self-portrait, this time sunken into snow over the top of my boots. I guess we’ve got about 14″ here now.
Addendum, 8:45 pm: This is the weirdest thing. Every few minutes the whole barn starts to rumble as though we’re in an earthquake. It continues for several seconds. My heart starts to race. And then, thwomp: a twenty-foot-wide wall of snow slides from the pitched roof three stories above. Seeing the avalanche mass and disintegrate as it plummets past your window is like watching a body drop past your highrise office window. Whoah! There it goes again. It’s scarier than shite: the shaking and the roar, and it goes on for quite a while.
Oh, what a GORGEOUS bird! And that is one snowy-bearded man.
I am quite proud of your driving skills, and your continued aliveness. Your sinking feet in that one picture make me shiver.
I think I have said so before, but I love *love* LOVE looking at your photos. Especially now that everything is beauteous and hnow-covered. I demand more.
Thank you, loveen. You are very indulgent of me. Maybe we’ll still have hnow when you arrive … as long as it (or ice or sleet) are not on the night you arrive!
I like the picture with the fairly large white planets in it. Also the white road that squeaks when you walk on it.
Yeah, I think it was a meteor shower.
Have Jason tell you the story about the time in Michigan when a sheet of ice flung itself from the roof onto his head, and when he came to an icicle had pierced his lip, and had then gone through his tongue.
Well that’s it, actually-that’s the whole story for you.
You’d tell it much better, I’m sure.
Just now, on the radio, Foreigner’s “Cold as Ice” came on.
Weeeeeeerd.
Eep: I’ll be sure to have Jason tell me the story. Just as weird as “Cold as Ice” is that as I write this, the slabs from yesterday’s snow have started sliding off the pitched roof, even louder and scarier than before. You do NOT want to be under the eaves when a ton of ice (and icicles) drop. Tell Jason.