Life in the Snow

It snowed the other night.  I had dinner plans at La Tolteca with Jason, but much faster than I thought possible, given the warmth of the winter thus far, the snow had stuck to the roads.  Friends on Facebook cautioned against driving in the area.  The street in front of my house had disappeared into a blanket of white.  We canceled dinner, a "snowcheck."  I made a pizza instead, with a balsamic reduction base, prosciutto, goat cheese, mozzerella, and chopped dates.

Quietly the snow came down, and the next morning the world sparkled in white.  It warmed, so the silence of the snow-covered world was broken by the sounds of dripping water from the roof and the trees.  The road in front my house remained frozen and unplowed.  I stayed inside the whole day.  I read, I cross-stitched, I worked on my Latin.  I watched a few episodes of Arrested Development while playing with Rhett and Felix.  I cooked chicken and rice. 

This morning most of the snow on the street had gone.  I went out to check the mail and found tracks on the driveway and sidewalk-- I identified cat pawprints, rabbit prints, and the hooves of a deer.  The deer must have come nearly right up the front door!  I like that about snow.  It reminds me that while I sleep the world goes on living.  A deer, right by the house.  So close that had I been awake I could have reached out the door to touch it. 

I left the house today for the first time in forty-eight hours.  I trudged to the library to return a book, then visited with one of my friends briefly in a little shop near Merchant Square.  Then I returned home, to read, to drink tea, to play with the kitties.

The sun shone, the world glittered.  And went on living.