We all spent yesterday digging out. It was a perfect bluebird day. The rare kind of winter day here that requires sunglasses. There is a lot of snow. It is chest high in some places. I am not sure what the official total is, but I overheard someone say 40 inches, and that seems about right. The trouble with snow is that it is not as easy to measure as flour for a cake. It blows and drifts and falls heavier in one place in town than another. The Haines Borough is the size of Rhode Island, afterall.
I tried to get to the beach with snow shoes, but gave up (and I’m pretty tough). Trixie was game, but Jeff turned back and Pearl needed to be half-carried,half- nudged to the porch. She is old and it was too much.
I walked to town instead, just to see it– and because all the sun and brightness was so much fun to be out in and made me much happier than driving around the berms and praying I didn’t slide into a snowbank, or worse. I hardly saw any cars. Mostly, people were walking and smiling, just like I was.
The sun sparkled right through a few snow squalls and I hoped I’d see a snowbow but I didn’t. (Is there such a thing?)
Up by Anne’s house, I visited with her neighbor who was chipping away at the wall of snow the plow had left at the end of his driveway. “Don’t those guys know we are getting old?” He said, but he wasn’t too grumpy. It was such a beautiful afternoon. Even after the sun ducked behind the mountains.
I mean, wow. Just wow. It’s supposed to be sunny and cold for a week. Lucky us!
