Today I trudged to my sister's house along un-plowed sidewalks lugging my sister's half of our CSA. Winter fought my every step, lashing angrily in my face, causing my clumsy feet to slip and slide beneath me, daring me to give up and return to the safety of home.
Refusing to relent, my feet continued to trudge along in slow motion through the heavy snow, as though encased in syrupy molasses. What is normally a 10 minute walk dragged into 30 minutes. Dark was falling and I was the only person silly enough to be out in the storm. I felt small and fragile next to the fury of winter.
I longed for Oakland and those endlessly sunny days, wearing shorts-n-flip flops, and easy unencumbered 80 mph movement from place to place.
Hours later I was shoveling my driveway for the 6th time this weekend (I am so not kidding, the snow has been relentless) and my cell rang. It was Jen Hing in Richmond, CA. We haven't talked in ages and I started laughing like an idiot. How did I end up here in the midst of a snowstorm fighting desperately to keep my driveway clear while Jen is across the country in the land that is forever sunny?
Life is funny that way. Who the hell knows where you will end up and why?
After a nice talk I went in to get cozy in my lovely and odd, old Vermont house. I am not really sure how I ended up back here in this winter wonderland but I do think I am supposed to be here. And having grown up with this relentless snow, there is a part of me that will always be enchanted and awed by it, despite its ferocity.
Maybe it is good to feel small and humble 10 months out of the year?
These are some photos of our snowy wonderland that I took two years ago when I was walking around in a state of confused shock. The blankets of snow comforted me then. It was a sure sign of beauty and goodness that I desperately needed at that dark time in my life.
And then came Stuck in Vermont and a warm home of my own strong enough to be battered by a winter thick with storms. In short, I am a very lucky and humble girl this winter holiday who needs to get outside to start shoveling again.
