It must be January, right? This must be a photo from years gone by that I’m reposting.
On this quiet Sunday morning in October, this is the view from my kitchen door.
Stunned doggies have had to deal with a slippery trip up the hill to the dog corral.
You can see that there are still leaves on some of the trees.
The contrast of the beautifully colored leaves against the snow is striking. That’s our clothesline at the top of the photo.
I shoveled a few times before Don got home. If you’d driven by, you would have seen me out in the front yard with broom in hand, shaking the snow off bushes, trees and hydrangeas. Don’s usual half hour trip home turned into a 90 minute white-knuckled drive on country roads full of cars that had spun out. More than once, he thought he was going to have to abandon the car. Thankfully, he arrived home safely.
The lights in our house flickered countless times and I was sure we would lose power. We cooked dinner early in case we lost the use of our electric stove. Unbelievably, for there are hundreds of thousands without power today, we didn’t. We are very lucky.
This will all be a faint memory in a day or two, as temperatures rise and everything melts.
It’s still October, isn’t it? This all feels like some bizarre dream in which somehow I have jumped forward in time; where the calendar tells me one thing but my eyes tell me another.
Happy Sunday. We’re grateful this morning.