All About Angels
The reverse side of a tapestry this fly-netting,
snow plugging its tiny squares,
clotting with whiteness the loopholes
where snippets of light sneak through.
Black and white this landscape,
its colorless contours a throwback
to earlier days when dark and light
and black and white held sway.
Snow piled on snow.
The bird-feeder buried and buried too
the lamps that can no longer shine
beneath their cloak of snow.
The front porch contemplates a sea of white,
wave after wave cresting whitecaps,
casting a snow coat over trees
with snow-filled nests standing
shoulder-deep in the drifts
while a slow wind whistles
and high and dry in the sky above
the sun is a pale, thin penny
drifting through ragged clouds
that threaten to bring more snow.
who misses the snow
and offered to come and dig us out.
1. View from office window with IMac and pencils.
2. Bird feeders and the mountain ash from kitchen window.
2a Same scene, two hours later
2b Same scene, another hour later
3. Back porch, bird table, and picnic table from living room.
3b Same scene, two hours later
4. Cat’s eye view of snow from Princess Squiffy’s vantage point.
4a Same scene, two hours later
5. Princess Squiffy turns her back on the snow and seeks an alternate reality
6. We finished with 63 cms of snow (25 inches), plus drifting of course. Almost shoulder high in places. Other snowfalls in the province ranged from 70-80-90-100 cms. All in all, we were lucky. A wonderful neighbor came and helped us dig / plow ourselves out earlier this evening, and now we can get to the road and our driveway is snow free. Paul: thank you so very much.