BATTENING DOWN

One more—or yet another, depending on your perspective—blast of winter headed our way, and as usual forecasts are all over the place. They all have in common the likelihood of some snow, a little (and from some forecasters a little more than a little) ice and freezing rain, followed by rain.

And best of all: the whole thing followed by a warmup that will see 60s here over the weekend.

So whatever we get we won’t get affected by for long, at least in its frozen incarnations. The rain, some of it projected to be heavy, will have lingering effects, but we’ll just add those to the still lingering effects of heavier rains (and one big snow) from earlier in winter. The ground is wet and is going to get wetter; the driveway is muddy and is going to get muddier.

But we’re not going to snowed in, at least not for more than a day or so. And if the ice keeps itself to minimal levels, the power should stay on.

Nonetheless, I’m battening down, as I always do. Eater for drinking and flushing all stocked up. Emergency radio—named Heidi by my wife—ready to be turned on. Kerosene heater ready to provide backup heat if needed. Plenty of food for us, for Millard the beagle, and for Lightning, Chester, and Mary Grace, the cats. In an hour or so I’ll move the car to a spot above the worst of the mudway that is now the bottom part of our driveway.

In other words, ready for pretty much whatever comes our way.

And even readier for the much warmer whatever that;s coming after it.

Creek Flows Past Creek Floes

 Glade Creek, which flows through our farm,  is a year-round delight, endlessly surprising, constantly teaching me new things, occasionally reinventing itself during heavy rains.

But on those winter mornings when the creek freezes along its banks and against its rocks, and those even colder ones when the ice extends its reach toward and sometimes past midstream, the creek seems to become even richer.

Ice, water, light, and shadow come together, making morning magic.

I could stand and watch their interplay forever, but ice on a flowing creek isn't a forever thing.