Snow. It did. Lots! The hummingbird came to the feeder, its wings seeming unaffected by the wind that would have blown away a less persistent, less adaptable mite. Seven bushtits were stacked on the side of the peanut feeder facing the wind; I would have thought to turn my back to it so this positioning is giving me some cause for wonder. Nature never offers idle lessons. Or idol, for that matter, which is how I first typed the word and then corrected this ‘error’ and then errored the correct. You know what I mean. This, the second day, looked like it could be cold and crispy but the dark damp look of the concrete walks had me soonest outdoors to see that, indeed, it was mild and melting. I shoveled a number of potential snowmen off the deck, then packed some of the white stuff off the railing into a compact sphere and lobbed it at a tree with a long distant, grinning, memory of being a pitcher for a baseball team.
The front sidewalk to house got cleared. The paper lady delivers the newspaper far before dawn and had navigated to the front door along the walk and up the twist of steps. I could see her footprints. And my notion that wilderness activities are available to city dwellers was furthered by my ‘tracking’ her trek. She had set something down beside the walk near the door, likely her paper bag, I deduced, as she made her way up the steps to the mailbox. And, for some reason I can’t figure, she walked around a bit in front of the chair that provides a place to sit and view toward the Olympic Mountains to the south. The snow on the chair was undisturbed so she was not taking a rest or surveying city lights. Shuffling around to shield flame from wind while lighting a cigarette? Rearranging paper bag? Conversing with a cat out on his appointed rounds? Maybe she just slid off the sidewalk and was righting herself. Fun in the speculation.
Noted three icicles. Tiny ones but icicles nonetheless. Shook the heavy snow off the branches of the smaller trees. The Japanese pine seemed particularly pleased to be released of the burden on its ‘cupped palm’ needles by instantly and almost snappishly returning to upright; the cedar sort of stretched and yawned its way back up. Started to push the heavy snow off the driveway – something satisfying about ‘baring the ground’. But then I realized I was also upending the moss that is growing along the edge of the drive so I stopped. There is also something satisfying about snow melting from underneath and sliding away down an incline. My bright yellow garden clogs looked lovely against the white snow and the black tarmac as I leaned on the shovel and thought about water/snow/water.
It is several hours later now and the forecast snow has not appeared. The toes of the sun are still on the horizon but its body must be spread on top of the gray clouds that cover the sky, clouds that look like they may be heavy with a load of snow they are just waiting to let go. I have an image of the sun lying supine on top of those clouds beating its fists and shouting, “Let me through!” I’m all for that.