The virtuosic snow
arrives, wild angels
astride streamers of bitter air,
here to surprise, sweeten,
to rearrange time into
measures of northern beauty,
billowing with memory of
more innocent desires.

********

I missed out on my Friday posting as we had a major power outing. It had snowed on Thursday, then moving into Friday sporadic sleet joined in and finally robbed the area of power and safe mobility. There was nothing for it but to acquiesce and find ways to entertain myself and stay reasonably warm. Driving anywhere to cozier digs was not a great idea with black ice just starting to slick up byways. My adult children were snug elsewhere but I determined to stay put.

Still, I longed  to walk some in the brisk air before things worsened. After all, I grew up in Michigan; Oregon displays of snow in the Willamette Valley are not that fearsome. Our Cascade Mountains get an abundance; skiers and snowboarders hie thee to Mt. Hood and other gorgeous peaks. So I had a very ordinary goal–to blink away lovely snowflakes, see whiteness decorating all, to get exercise. It started well with snow still fresh and light, but suddenly the wind took on more edgy iciness. After a mere 20 minutes the mess began to cling to jacket, gloves and hat. My face stung and fingertips were numb. My old hiking boots were holding up but traction had worn off more than I thought. Thank goodness for decent balance; I got home safely.

The power did not return. The next eleven hours were alternately spent in the car warming up and charging my cell phone, digging out and lighting many candles as night descended, reading, gazing out our windows as pellets smacked the street and then snow that, I felt, fervently wanted to be rain swirled about in a crazy dance. I recalled childhood romps and how much they shaped my well being and sense of joy in the outdoors and my body. However, the heat in my place is electric and it got quite chilly. I sat swaddled in a thick throw plus my heavy fleece, with half-gloves on my hands and my slippers wishing they were mukluks.

I texted my husband, on business in Mexico: “cold and lonely” (dang it, Mexico!), then retreated to bed under weighty blankets by midnight, candlelight gleaming in the dark, a fine book in hand. Then, candles snuffed, good sleep at last. At 1:30 in the morning the radio (which I’d been listening to, forgotten about after power left) in the living room rang out with alarming force. A seriously classical chorale brought me to galloping consciousness. I bolted from bed to turn it off, as well as a few lights that were finally shining. Then snuggled back into a warm welter of coverings and slept until late.

All’s well that ends well! Here, a few pictures that tell some of the day and eve. Today we are back to regular rain and a bit of brighter sky. That’s the Northwest!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.