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The encroaching storm in this image is very different from the one that taps against my windowpane tonight. Mine is a fix of snow and rain and frozen stuff. The wind chimes are dancing to accompany the tinkling sounds of precipitation on the grass. Despite their dulcet tones, I would prefer to be on this catamaran, watching the water reflect the sky.
Pomato Point, Anegada, British Virgin Islands.
Quote of the day: “The snow was too light to stay, the ground too warm to keep it. And the strange spring snow fell only in that golden moment of dawn, the turning of the page between night and day.” – Shannon Hale
A warm day before the storm
My slumgullion stew
Squirrels scolding something in the night
Music in my kitchen
How fortunate I have been to travel
Spring 2013 Part 2 – Tantrum
The tulips may be shyly greening,
Their tight-lipped buds peeking out from a cloak of leaves,
But the architect of their blooms
Is in no mood for beauty.
Weather hormones raging,
It throws hail and tornadoes,
Blizzards and lightning,
And rumbles, grumbles, stumbles
Towards an April night.
Perhaps the wind chimes will sing it sleep
Or perhaps it will bluster and rage into darkness
And beyond through dawn,
Should I be posting Christmas pictures instead of other seasons? I don’t know. What I know is that now that we are past the most recent apocalypse prediction, we might just hope that we have a new world unfolding before us – a kinder, gentler, more beautiful, more tender, more thoughtful world. A new spring born this Christmas season.
Quote of the day: “I offer you peace. I offer you love. I offer you friendship. I see your beauty. I hear your need. I feel your feelings.” – Mahatma Gandhi
Wrapping paper swordfights in WalMart
But still, I felt compelled to publish this image of a storm looming over Topsail Beach a few years ago. Topsail weathered Sandy better than other parts of North Carolina, and I am sending blessing thoughts to all of you who are in the throes of the storm tonight.
Topsail Beach, North Carolina.
Quote of the day: “You can either be a victim of the world or an adventurer in search of treasure. It all depends on how you view your life.” – Paulo Coelho
A single flame rose
The fires are improving bit by bit, but for those who have lost their homes – 346 in Colorado Springs alone, so far – the pain and loss and immense task of rebuilding is just beginning. I gave them this rainbow to show them that, yes, there is hope.
Quote of the day: ““No single event can awaken within us a stranger whose existence we had never suspected. To live is to be slowly born.” – Antoine de Saint-Exupery
The milkweed seed that floated alongside me on my walk from the bus tonight
That the fires are improving
This storm passed over Jost van Dyke, sharing its brief blustery winds with those of us on Tortola.
Tortola, British Virgin Islands.
Quote of the day: “I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.” – GK Chesterton
The little old man on the street rocking out along with Kelsea and me to the music from the truck radio downtown last weekend
Not setting the house on fire when I cooked pork chops
How the curtains move in the breeze from the storm that never came
The curiously strange dogs at the small farm down the road
Getting to see MKL today
Well, we talked about the first snow last week. And I thought that this year, it might be fun to keep count of how many snowfalls we have. I’ve never done that before. Last night was the beginning of our second snowfall.
It started suddenly and was nasty driving home. In fact, my personal day started with flaming cheese toast, and ended with hyperspace snow. Do you know what hyperspace snow is? It’s when you’re driving and the snow is coming at you so thick and fast and sideways that it looks like what happened when they made the jump to hyperspace in Star Wars.
With Snobama last week, they had the snowplows mobilized before the first flakes hit the ground. Everyone was bustling around the CDOT garage when I passed it on the way home. Last night, not only were there no plows (okay, it was a little early to plow), but there were no sand trucks, and the roads were really slick.
Still it was cozy to be home, albeit around 9:00 pm after a too-long day at works. I was guardedly optimistic about being able to work from home today, but alas, the company was open, and my computer, which I brought home with me, was acting like a high schooler refusing to get out of bed in the morning. I kept poking it to try to make it wake up. It would flash me a look, grunt, and go back to sleep. After 20 minutes on the phone with the Help Desk, I gave up the ghost and decided to go into the office.
The windshield wipers worked this morning, and the snow, while deepish, wasn’t bad to scrape off the truck. Though even saying that I scraped snow off the truck inspires a fresh wave of nausea. I think someone needs to remind me why I live here.
They said on the TV that the buses were running 15 minutes late, which is fine to say that on the TV, but if no one tells the buses that, then you can’t risk showing up for your bus 15 minutes late, because chances are, it wasn’t. Although this time, it was. In fact, it was 40 minutes late. So rather than sit in my puffing car, tempting carbon monoxide poisoning, I stood in the freezing cold for 40 minutes. This bus stop has no benches and a shelter that consists of a three-sided, metal, open-grill enclosure, which offers no shelter from the storm. By the time the bus decided to arrive (maybe it was acting like a teenager too), I couldn’t feel my toes, and any semblance of revelling in the lovely twinkling snowflakes was gone with the bitterly cold wind.
While I was standing there, trying not to be cold, I decided that if I’m going to count the winter storms, I might as well name them, just like they do hurricanes, except not quite so traditional. Already helped along in this mission by Denver’s creative masses, we had a name for our first storm. Now it’s up to me to label this one. And we’re expecting a third storm on Saturday that some say will be worse than this, while others say it will merely be a few droplets of chilly camel spit.
I realized also that, as a new homeowner, I probably am supposed to be shovelling my sidewalk. They have kind of a Snowy Sidewalk Nazi mentality in certain parts of the County, and have been known to throw little old ladies in jail with hardened criminals for violating the “keep your sidewalk free from snow” laws. I don’t know the general attitude of MY town towards this, but I noticed an awful lot of clean sidewalks on my drive to the bus stop. Which means that I need to get a snow shovel. And a younger back. I wonder if there’s a place I could pick up both? And a million dollars? And my house in the tropics? Sounds like I’m looking for “All-Mart”.
Now, I’m grudgingly ensconced in Cubeland, instead of snuggled on the Red Couch, but I am being pleasantly productive. I hope to get home by morning. And I’ll leave you with the beginning of the running list of named winter storms:
1. Snobama (October 26, 2011)
2. The Storm of Great Grumpiness (November 2, 2011)
Stay warm, wherever you are. But if you ARE somewhere warm, no gloating, or I’ll be forced to hunt you down and put snow down your back.
London, England, United Kingdom.
Quote of the day: “The wind is a natural way to loosen and release dead leaves and branches, just as emotional and life-situation storms are opportunities for humans to release ‘deadwood’ and anything needing to be swept away.” – Doreen Virtue
The hawk diving for its prey on my way home today
A luscious pink sunset
Sunbeams through storm clouds
Work at home days
The poet lies there
As the bright spangle of lightning
Illuminates the words she chewses
About rain sounding like
Bamboo wind chimes.
The homeowner lays wondering
if this will be the time to
tell about leaks
in her new-old roof
And how deep the water is
in the pig run outside her
The mother lays awake
wondering if her daughter,
is wakeful too,
and recalling another storm
where they cuddled together
as the bolts hit too close to home.
The child wishes it could go on forever,
loves it when the thunder rattles the windows
in their panes
And the sea
The abandoned lover remembers
of tropical rains and
being frightened once
by the thunder,
holding her love tight until
her fears passed
with the storm.
I try to sleep
But the bed
Is mighty crowded.