Snowdrops in snow

This morning when I walked Toivo to the place of pines and back, the sky was full of snowflakes. April snow never lasts; even the thin layer of slush that accumulated on lawns, car windshields, and in the shade was melted by afternoon. April snow is merely a reminder that winter will leave in its own good time: on its schedule, not yours.

Toppled

April snow is decorative: a filmy veil draped across an otherwise drab scene. The snowstorms we had in March were heavy enough to wreak havoc: everywhere the dog and I walk, we see toppled trees, downed limbs, and piles of sawdust that indicate not just storm damage, but storm cleanup. Those March storms dropped snow that shaped the landscape, flattening trees and downing power lines. April snow, on the other hand, is wispy and insubstantial: something that falls and vanishes soon after contact like the ghost of a ghost.

April snow is like the snow of childhood: a nostalgic thing that is lovely to look upon but requires no sacrifice. April snow melts before we have a chance to grow sick of it, a remembered thing even before it is gone.

Last storm's damage, this storm's snow

Today we’re weathering our third nor’easter in eleven days: first rainy Riley, then windy Quinn, and now snow-dumping Skylar. Because of long-range weather forecasts, we knew to expect this third storm even as we braced for the second, so it feels like we’ve spent most of the past few weeks either preparing for, enduring, or cleaning up after a storm.

Overhead

Whenever a nor’easter arrives as predicted, I wonder how earlier generations handled surprise storms. Nowadays, we know days in advance to stock up on food, flashlights, and other essentials: one thing I got at the grocery store on Friday, for instance, was a new broom since I’d snapped the old one while clearing heavy, wet snow from our shrubs after Quinn. In the days before reliable weather forecasts, storms simply arrived, so you had to be perpetually prepared.

Along Richardson Field

Apart from the work and inconvenience of storm cleanup, I don’t mind snowy days. This week, ironically enough, is my spring break, so I’ve spent my “day off” walking the dog, vacuuming, and unpacking our monthly delivery of pet supplies: domestic chores I’d have to do with or without snow.

Aqueduct Trail

Walking the dog in a blizzard is, admittedly, a bit messier than on a dry day: for both our morning and afternoon dog-walks, I pulled on thick socks, rain pants, and a hooded windbreaker, and after each walk, I came inside, toweled off the dog, and peeled off my outer layers and hung them to dry.

Only the plows and intrepid dogwalkers are out

On snowy days, dog-walkers have the streets to ourselves, and it feels like heaven to come home, change into dry clothes, and sip hot tea, fueling one’s inner fires for the next round. Skylar has dumped well over a foot of snow, and the flakes are still falling. Tomorrow we’ll pull on our thick socks, rain pants, and hooded jackets to clean away snow all over again, and in the meantime we never stop dreaming of spring.

Ram in snow

Yesterday we got a freshening of snow: just a few inches to brighten the ground as January ends. February in New England is always a trying time–the longest month–so it’s good to begin with a clean palette that will eventually turn February gray like everything else.

Morning commute / stuck in traffic

During yesterday’s morning commute, I saw a motorist accomplish an impressive (albeit inadvisable) feat. While steering with one hand, the driver next to me stuck one arm out his driver-side window and cleared his windshield with a snow-brush, all the while staying in his lane without swerving.

Drain

It’s not uncommon to see drivers hop out of their cars to clear snow while stopped at a light, but I’ve never seen a driver clear his car while moving. You know winter has overstayed its welcome when you’re so good at clearing snow, you can do it one handed while otherwise occupied.

Snowy patio

We got about a foot of snow from winter storm Niko: not exceptional by New England standards, but the biggest storm of the season so far. Today was sunny, as is typical after big snowstorms: a perfect day for digging out.

Miss Bling in a blanket

Before J got started with roof-raking and snow-blowing, I had two tasks: clear my car and shake snow from the trees. Clearing my car was easy enough: the trick is to use a push-broom to brush the bulk of the snow, start the car and leave it running with the heat on, and then clear the windows, windshield, and mirrors with an ice scraper. Once you’ve cleared most of the snow, the sun will take care of the rest.

The snow-shaking is a more involved task. Our house is fringed with rhododendrons and evergreens, and these get weighed down after every snowfall. Although I like the look of tree limbs laden with snow, it’s not good for trees and shrubs to be bent double, so after I cleared my car, I circled our yard with my push-broom, shaking the snow from bent boughs.

Snowy backyard

The shrubs alongside the garage and driveway are easy to reach, especially with a long-handled broom, but the rhododendrons on the far side of our house are less accessible, growing as they do in the narrow strip of yard between our house and the neighbors’ hedges. Wintertime is the only time I squeeze into this space between our rhodies and their hedge, a messy tangle that feels a lot wilder than its location right alongside our house would suggest.

Today, the rhododendron leaves were curled lengthwise and frozen, hanging like brittle green cigars that rattled woodenly as I knocked the snow from their branches. Sometimes, when a bough is bent low to the ground with snow, it springs up with a swish when you liberate it. Other times when you shake an overhead limb, the snow showers down in a diamond-glitter burst. I’ve learned to turn my face and close my eyes before knocking the largest overhead boughs, but sometimes out of the corner of my eye I’ll see a hint of rainbow as the snow turns to diamond-dust then dissolves in midair.

Blue sky after snowstorm

I’ve lived in New England long enough to notice that the day after a snowstorm is often sunny. Yesterday while the snow fell, the sky was dishrag gray, but this morning the sky was blue and cloudless: crystalline.

Backyard after snowstorm

These clear blue days after snowstorms always feel like a kind of consolation: Mother Nature’s way of apologizing. After you’ve hunkered down through the throes of a storm, you’ll be rewarded the morning after with perfect weather for digging out. Even if the day after a snowstorm is cold, the sun quickly gets down to the business of melting, so if you’re diligent about clearing most of the snow from your car, sidewalks, and other surfaces, the sun will take care of the rest.

Yesterday’s snow was wet and heavy, so today our neighborhood is dotted with downed branches and an occasional toppled tree. Wet and heavy snow is the most likely to take down power lines, but we weathered the storm without losing power. Today the trees around our house were particularly picturesque, with each twig highlighted with a bold stroke of white. Soon enough, the snow will fall from the trees and grow dirty underfoot, but today, our neighborhood looked like it had been slathered with a thick layer of white frosting.

Frosted

This winter has been remarkably mild, so it’s almost a relief to have a bit of snow on the ground to brighten an otherwise drab winter landscape. A fresh blanket of snow is like a fresh coat of paint that reflects and magnifies the sunlight so many of us crave. A bleak winter landscape without snow looks stark and naked, but a layer of snow brightens everything it touches.

Buried table

Remember that photo of our patio table and chairs I posted in January, after winter storm Juno dumped a foot and a half of snow in our backyard? As of this afternoon, that table had been completely covered in snow from winter storm Marcus, and more has fallen (and continues to fall) since then.

Path to back door

Both yesterday and today, J spent a few hours in the afternoon raking snow from the roof and snow-blowing the sidewalks and driveway, and I shoveled the areas the snow-blower can’t reach, like the front and rear entryways as well as the gate to our backyard dog pen. Both yesterday and today, I brushed about a half foot of snow off my car even though we have nowhere to go: J and I stayed close to home yesterday and today, and tomorrow I have another snow day from teaching.

We’ll have to do it all over again tomorrow, after the snow has finally stopped falling, and after the plows have made their final pass down our street, leaving a tall wall of white at the base of our driveway. We’ll have to roof-rake, snow-blow, and shovel again tomorrow, but at least for one brief moment this afternoon, J and I felt like we’d made a (temporary) dent in the ever-accumulating snow piles.

Me in snow

That’s me standing on the sidewalk J dutifully cleared this afternoon, three weeks’ worth of storms leaving us with waist-deep drifts in our backyard…and we’ve gotten even more snow since then.

Keep it clear

Our beagle, Melony, didn’t want to get out of bed this morning, burrowing into the blankets after the alarm went off in the hope that I might miss her, leaving her to snuggle rather than taking her out to do her business in a cold and snow-filled dog pen.

Snowed in

Our white German shepherd, Cassie, has trampled some paths in the dog-pen snow that Melony gladly follows on warm days, sometimes refusing to come when I call, leaving me to stomp through the snow after her. But that happens only on warm days when the air is humid and the snow squishy. On frigid days when the snow squeaks underfoot and the air is dry and razor-sharp, Melony is waiting for me at the dog-pen gate, jumping and whimpering in anticipation.

Snow on trees

We’re supposed to get more snow this weekend: a storm that’s going to stall right over us, pumping out snow for four straight days. But before the storm, the chill: this morning was below zero, and now it’s warmed to the single digits: at the moment, too cold for snow.

This is my contribution for today’s Photo Friday theme, Weather. Although I did snap a photo of Melony burrowing in blankets this morning, the photos I show you here come from Framingham State yesterday.