My blogging friend Alistair from Scotland has asked me why I want it to snow. The simple answer is insulation... I keep stretching my boundaries and planting less and less hardy plants, experimenting and trying to create mini-climates within the gardens. There is no better insulator than snow, and just when I think you no longer need it with the weather changes of the past few years... I check the outside temperature at 3:00 a.m. (as in this morning) and it's a minus 14 degrees fahrenheit with minus 30-40 degree windchills. We heard on the radio this morning that areas of Minnesota had actual temps of minus 42 degrees fahrenheit... ouch!
I got to thinking about my week and realized that if it hadn't been for two snow storms, I wouldn't have left the house since last Sunday! I spent a total of three hours with the snow blower outside... Being that housebound by choice sounds awful I know. I exercised on the treadmill, spent many hours in the wood shop and glass studios, we had guests for dinner one night and I spent an afternoon visiting with a former student and her husband and beautiful nine month old who dropped by. Oh yes, there's also blogging, and I even found time to watch a couple British mysteries on PBS. This is somewhat typical of my winter I'm afraid, but it does allow me to do all the 'creation' things I don't have time for during the gardening season.
I love falling rain and falling snow... Robert Frost's 'Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening' has always been one of my favorite poems. As a child in Vermont I often walked through the hills to visit a friend and returned late at night in the dark and a snowstorm, and this poem always brings those memories back to my mind...
Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
I decided to go through a few of my winter photos and found some taken during a past snowstorm here at Oak Lawn. Also, if you scroll down, the last post was created yesterday and has to do with yet another garden redo... have a great weekend, whether snowy or not! Larry
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