I'm looking out through an ice-covered window at one of our red pines. About 30 feet tall, most days its limbs reach out and upward, waving softly in the slightest breeze. This morning, however, those branches have folded like a cheap umbrella, weighed down with a half-inch of ice.Snow fell on Sunday, on Monday afternoon and again Tuesday morning, followed by another round late yesterday. Freezing rain encased our world overnight, continuing well past dawn today.
Now it's snowing again, big flakes, really coming down.
Our lawn tractor, its repaired tire holding air and its new starter whirring when called upon, has been getting regular exercise. Looks like I'll be back plowing later today, too, but not 'til after this batch of snow is through. We, like Chuck Berry, have no particular place to go.
Here in our rural-suburban county we're under a "Level 2 Snow Emergency" (all but necessary travel discouraged), while a handful of the surrounding counties are at Level 3 (emergency vehicles only). The schools -- and I mean all schools, even Ohio State's main campus -- are closed, so the spawns are still in bed. (Well, duh.) My wife is home, too, having decided to shut her office for the day. Shopping malls, state offices and many companies have closed, cancelled shifts or delayed opening.
It's one nasty dose of wintry weather, sure, but I'm loving it. More than ever, I'm cherishing every single moment in this wonderful place, because our days in this house are short, if not yet precisely numbered.
The reasons why, perhaps foreshadowed in earlier posts, will be a story told another day. Right now, I embrace a present joy rather than mourn a future loss.
The foundation for our home was set within these log walls, the seeds of a family's promise sown in this rich soil. Our days here have shone like silver, and many more will come to us -- they'll just come to us somewhere else. We know that we'll create brilliant moments in other places, because home travels with us.
This day, like each remaining day here or elsewhere, deserves to be savored, celebrated. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm headed outside.I'll try not to fall on my ass.
* * *
Update, 4pm: About the time that I finished plowing the driveway, my wife got this news flash from our school district's "alert" system:
Wednesday, January 28, 2009. All schools will be closed due to inclement weather.That message didn't show up in her inbox until nearly nine hours after classes are scheduled to begin -- and almost two hours after school ordinarily lets out.
I, of course, got the same alert shortly after 10pm last night. Just amazing.
