During the past week, the nearly 50" of powdery snow has settled into a much heavier 30+ inches. The dig into the house took only about 15 minutes, the cats waiting and watching from the car. When finally released they jumped into what must have seemed mountains of snow and ran to dive under the deck. That, the under, no longer there. With their world miserably changed, the ran to the door and the land of familiar. Poor things, they keep trying. Shoveling the deck was more akin to calving icebergs. The snow, though not icy, had formed a solid mass, perfect for cutting into blocks, stackable. I cut chunks a foot by two and pushed them to the edge in hopes of getting them to roll down towards the pond and away. The piles are now as high as and a foot above the decking. Today, the blowers go into action. Big guns.
Not much time for spinning today… and tomorrow, we travel back south. An expected death in the family. The owl had come to me in my dreams Saturday night, I knew it would be Sunday. In the the morning, the excitement of getting packed and ready to travel had pushed my dream away. Not until I spied a hawk at the side of the road did my dream return to me. The trip would be cut short. Maybe we’d have time to dig out. We continued. Onward. Forward.
Fly high. Travel well until we meet again.
Comments
13 responses to “the after”
Dreams and omens- I get those too sometimes. I’m so sorry about the unexpected death. Safe travel back south. I’ll be thinking of you and those affected by it.
Wishing you safe travel….
Safe travels.
I’m so sorry for your loss. Have a safe trip.
Drive safely. I hope that blizzard doesn’t come up here. We have been horrible slackers and still haven’t even fully shoveled off our deck. We figure we need to replace it anyway, no sense straining our backs to clean it off. The piles are just like yours, so it’s truly back-breaking to shovel it and pile it higher. And I’m sure we only have a fraction of what you have.
I knew you were expecting this, but it is still hard to loose some one. I’m sorry. Travel safe!
Sorry to hear of your loss. Be safe in all that snowy-road travel.
Amazing premonitions. There are all kinds of energy in the ether. I’m sorry.
Safe drive. It snowed back here a bit.
Such a visual picture, the calving of the icebergs, and making igloo blocks.
So sorry for your loss. Be safe and warm.
Condolences. And have a safe trip.
Have you read the book “I heard the Owl Call My Name” by Margaret Craven, originally published in ’67, many printings the last in 2005.
Hope your trip was serene, and that all is well with your soul.
…peace be with you on your journey…you have my heart and thoughts during this time of loss…find the things that bring some comfort if you can.
Expected deaths are still not easy to bear. Take care of yourself and yours during this time.