By 3:00 pm yesterday afternoon the sky was sullen and dark. There was a smell of snow in the air that belied the drizzle of rain. By late evening the drizzle turned to snow. At 11 pm, Tim and I went for a walk. The streets were dark and quiet, few cars passed by, their noise hushed by the snow.
Trees laden with heavy wet snow bowed their limbs. The temperature hovered just around freezing. We crunched along the street, our footprints accompanying earlier tracks of deer and rabbits in the newly fallen snow. Then home to bed.
This was the view from our window late this morning. I awoke around 5 to the noise of Tim looking at his cell phone. The power was off. We think the heavy snow snapped a power line. We ate a cold breakfast (oh, how I longed for a cup of tea), then went for another walk.
Two quail perched on the Japanese maple tree outside the window. More were lined up on the van roof.
Snow here is not the norm for winter, so when it comes it's cause both for great rejoicing and great wailing. I prefer the rejoicing part - the beauty astounds me as my familiar world is transformed.