More, But Slowly

[rejectomorph]

Snow returned very late last night and by morning the woods were a gray and white scene that looked as brittle and delicate as spun glass. Before full light, the town's plow truck came by, sparks shooting from its blade as it scraped the two inches or so of fresh snow from the asphalt. Though the day remained cold, it was not cold enough to preserve the crystalline coatings which decorated the trees, and by afternoon I woke to bare oaks and soggy pines and a slushy white mantle covering the yard, and lines of sadly smudged snow lining the wet street. Occasional flurries of new snow animated the dull scene, but the sun set while the pavement was still bare.

I don't know if night will bring enough fresh snow to decently cover the street's nakedness, but several more days of storms are expected. So far no winds have threatened, but plenty of teasing breezes rise and fall. I'd rather be warm, of course, but I remain mindful that each inch of snow here means several inches in the mountains, and a thick Sierra snowpack will mean plentiful water next summer. Oh, mixed feelings.

Comments

[blue-by-you.livejournal.com]

"Snow returned very late last night and by morning the woods were a gray and white scene that looked as brittle and delicate as spun glass"

That is a lovely description.

[daisydumont.livejournal.com]

when we had just a few inches of slushy snow last week, the snowplow went by twice in the night. i could see the sparks the blade shot off the road, even with my back to the windows and the blinds drawn.

hope the winds don't get stronger!

[rejectomorph]

Thanks.

[rejectomorph]

I'm waiting for the plow to go by after nightfall someday. I want to see fireworks with my snow!