As I was outside shoveling the heavy ice and snow, I thought back to the fall and the very end of the season that crept right into winter. It wasn’t so cold at first. I remembered the mild days that felt unseasonably warm. I remembered wishing for the winter chill to set in as others wished the warmer temperatures would hang on for as long as they could. I didn’t think I would miss those days so much.
To say we’ve had our fair share of snow here in New Jersey is an understatement. We’ve been bombarded and another mess of a storm is headed our way again this weekend. A winter wonderland for some, it’s been a chaotic, freezing cold mess for most. My husband’s had extended work hours that have made both of us cranky and tired of winter’s constant assault. I miss him. I have never wished for the days of spring to come so fast so we can start putting some of our warm weather plans in motion. Together.
Our normally warm home has had an unusual chill in it. As I sit here writing this post, I have zipped up my North Face jacket for some added warmth. It’s not helping much. A nice, hot cup of tea is in the very near future. I may stand over the stove while the pot boils just to heat up a little more. We’ve layered on the blankets and snuggled so close together. I have cherished those moments because I never know when my husband will be called in for work. Maintenance is a bitch–inside and outside of the home.
My neighbors have been so generous. They know my situation–snow widow. I don’t actually mind shoveling, but my neighbor has been concerned for my well-being as I’ve been working hard to clear our surfaces. She often sends someone over with the snow blower to clear our narrow yet long driveway out. I owe them big time.
Despite the whining about the cold, pulling blankets so close to me and counting down the days to spring, the winter has provided some breathtaking landscapes–well, until they turn into a big, nasty, dirty, slushy mess. Fresh, fallen snow is a beautiful thing, but capturing nature in a deep, frozen slumber is simply stunning! While I pray my precious garden survives this harsh winter weather, I’ve captured my blackberry bush’s branches (and a rose) frozen in time. Encapsulated by a thick layer of ice, you can get a glimpse of pretty red branches with thorns still sharpened to snag you (my only quam about picking berries over the summer). Though these photos might share some of winter’s beauty, they’ll serve as a reminder of this year’s freeze. As soon as I go to open my mouth to complain about the heat this coming summer, I fully intend on having my husband throw one of these photos in my face.
Be safe. Stay warm.
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