The View From Inside a Snowglobe

Okay, so I need to start by saying that my photographs do not do justice to what I'm seeing outside my window, just so you know.

I remember, sometime in the deep dark of last night (this morning) hearing the strangely comforting "shhhhhhhhh" of snow blowing against our bedroom window, combined with the random notes of the wind chime on the front porch, so I knew the storm had begun.

When I woke up (around six-fifteen or so), there wasn't much snow on the ground, but it was blowing around pretty well and there had been no plows on our road (as a matter of fact, the first one I've seen all morning JUST went by, and it's ten o'clock now).

Have you ever heard the story about the blind men describing an elephant? Each man is at a different part of the animal, so each forms a view of the creature in his mind that is only part of the truth? It's a lot like that with this storm, it seems. If one sits in my living room and turns left to look south, one sees heavy snow pouring out of the sky and blowing in straight diagonal lines toward the west. If one turns right and looks out the back kitchen windows, one sees big, fluffy flakes gently swirling and twisting toward the ground, in no particular hurry to get there. It's quite something to see the same weather behaving so differently not more than sixty feet away.

The weather people are saying that we're just now entering the really serious phase of the storm, though the snowfall amounts still vary widely depending on which channel we're watching. None of us has any plans to go anywhere, though, and the power (knock wood) is still on.


I'll update again before dinner.