Monday, January 4, 2016

A Perfect Day 2


The temperatures plummeted and it snowed all night. When the alarm went off at 6.15am, the world  was still fully dark, and I struggled to get out of bed and run downstairs to turn the heating up before snuggling back in bed with a cup of tea and my porridge and maple syrup. My phone app said that it was -16C: "feels like -24C". What could -24C possibly feel like??

Lizzy was bouncing off the walls with the excitement of going back to school. Em was quietly resigned. Off they went, walking in the dark, up to the school bus through the falling snow.


I, meanwhile, set off to Hinesburg to spend a quiet day of writing at Coyote Ridge, Sharon's peaceful home.

Despite the distractions of the chickadees at the feeder and the woodpeckers in the trees, and the spectacular view, I worked peacefully and productively - interspersed with leisurely conversations with Sharon. Bruce came to pick me up at 3pm, when the sky was already darkening. Stopping only to pick up more apple cider, and a smoked turkey from Dakin Farms, we drove home through the quiet countryside.

It had snowed all day down at Long Point. Before I left, I had scattered birdseed, and the garden had been full of birds in my absence.




 When we got home, I glanced over to the lake. I have never seen anything like it. The wind had blown the snow up into the trees that edge the lake. A deep thick mist was rolling across the water, and behind it the setting sun was reflected in the window of every cottage, so they looked as if they were on fire. It was impossible to capture this remarkable scene through my camera, and my fingers almost froze as I tried to do so (ah, so this is what -24C feels like: your fingers stop working after 1 minute's exposure).  But here are some of my attempts:












And then, I stood and watched from behind the snow-laden trees, as the sun sank behind the Adirondack mountains.





1 comment:

  1. That's spectacular: beautiful photographs and evocative writing. I love the idea of spending a day writing in a comfortable environment, occasionally drinking tea and enjoying short forays into the white world, camera at the ready. Vicarious experience might only ever be a substitute for the real thing, but I do appreciate the way you're sharing these wonderful times with us.

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