Sunday, November 22, 2009
Sunday November 22 2009
It comes - it really comes today!
The first 'real' snowstorm - more than a skiff. Small and insignificant and brief as it is, it clogs the air with fat wet flakes and leave a solid white carpet on the ground, enough to stand up on the fence rails and drop a thick blanket on backs and butts and tails and manes and my own locks.
I'm intoxicated with the sight, and delirious with the sounds: the rubbery squeaky crackle of every footstep in the snow, the muted-desert winter-silence but for the flakes that hit my hat and jacket - fft fft fft; the cows walking down from the mountains to Oreana a day late, bawling their cantankerous opinions "Mabel - I TOLD you we should've left yesterday!"
The snow stays for a few hours, just like the clouds; then it evaporates, just like the clouds, leaving only a cold wind and a golden light over the snow-covered Owyhees up the crick, and a promise of more serious snow to come this winter.