Sunday, December 30, 2012

Winter Storm

Silver white
and feather soft,
falling from the heaven's loft,
ice cream cold,
and turtle slow-

I wrote that as a child while staring out my bedroom window. I can still picture my small self huddled against the cold sill, watching the flakes drift lazily down, listening to the small splats as they hit the window and trying to capture just what I was seeing.

I've always loved snow, though as I grew older and had to drive in it, I looked less forward to hard snowfalls. When we lived in northern Vermont, land of continuous hills, driving took a treacherous turn.

This morning I am snug in my cottage. Snow has been falling fairly steadily since yesterday morning. There's about a foot on the ground. Every branch and limb is frosted, every rooftop piled high, every fence rail outlined against the white. I've shopping to do and some other errands but perhaps I will put them off until tomorrow. My showshoes are waiting in the garage and the woods beckon.


Brian Miller said...

jealous of your snow...we got slush, sleet and a dusting of snow...i still love it..and want to sled and throw snow balls...smiles.

Gary said...

I love snow too but never more than when I have nothing to do and no where to be and I can sit in front of the fire with a book.

Kerry said...

What a beautiful little poem. Yes, put off those errands and put on the snowshoes.

Marc Leavitt said...

Hi Pauline:

Your poem caught the moment; I can see the look of wonder on that little girl's face, as she sits silently gazing at the snow.

I wrote the following haiku fifty years ago. I hope you like them.

Snowflakes cascade in sheets as brown rabbits nestle deep in their burrows.

White snow drifts are high where night meets the earth behind the black forest wall.

Thunder rumbles in the snow sky, while small children stand still in wonder.

On the ice-blue lake, sun dances silver-bright and sings in the cold air.

All the best for the new year.


Tabor said...

That poem is perfect. Not a child's poem but one that touches us all. I love snow, but have not seen any so living through all the blogs today.

Pauline said...

Brian - come on over!

gary - I love playing in the snow but hate driving in it.

kerry - I did both! :)

Marc - winter words drift down
like snowflakes; blue shadows dance
with the sun toward dusk

thanks for sharing your little gems

Tabor - the Old Farmer's Almanac predictors said we'd have a snowy winter. I hope they're right.

J Cosmo Newbery said...

Lovely poem. Not a fan of snow, close up, though. At the very least I need to be on the log-fire side of the window.

Barbara said...

You were gifted with words even as a child. I'm not surprised! I hope you ignored the errands and heeded the call of the snowshoes!

Marc Leavitt said...

I enjoyed your response. Take a look at my blog (Marc Leavitt's Blog) for a sonnet I posted this morning. And happy new year.

Pauline said...

JCN - I like the fire side of the window too but after I've been out in the snow!

Barbara - I did both :)

Friko said...

Heed the call of the woods. Shopping can wait.

The small child playing with words grew up to use them with ease and grace. I am glad to know you.

June said...

The poem is lovely and evocative. I am glad you're enjoying the snow. Husband and I enjoyed not going out into it to go to work yesterday, and we talked about how nice and clean it stays out here in the country . . . not gravelly and dirty the way it gets so quickly where there is Traffic. :-)

Hilary said...

Clearly you had that beautiful gift of words as a young one. And the gift of loving nature was with you also. Beautiful you.

Judith said...

If anyone could reconcile me to snow, it would be you.