Snowed In

A Snowstorm Near Ostara, Drying My Hawk by the Fire

Sunrise in Winter over the coops. (This is from last year, not this AM.)

A snow storm hit the farm yesterday in a beautiful fury. The property is iced like a carrot cake, with curving white drifts and frosted limbs on the trees. The sun is out now, and I can see the ice dripping as the world slowly warms up outside the windows.

There hasn’t been much snow this winter, and honestly, I thought we had seen the last of it, but of course nearly two feet dumped in the last 24 hours and this small farmhouse has shifted into storm mode—which means trudging through drifts to reach the animals for feeding, lots of shoveling, roof raking, and stove tending. When a storm hits this farm, my entire world collapses into a snow globe.

I love it.

Bree, my fluffiest cat, is in my lap as I type. The room I am writing in right now is a riot of rainbows, all dancing off the walls thanks to the heaps of window-strung sun-catchers. If you also work at home, I recommend them; because when there’s a refracted-light discotheque happening all around me I know it’s time for a break. I head straight outside and find some water to carry or eggs to collect just to soak up the sun. (This time of year it is better than a therapy appointment.)