Thursday, March 13, 2014

Extra ~~~Gratitude~~~

Seems this storm is deserving of bit of extra press. It is still happening as I type. Grateful to still have power with the winds howling like they who knows I could get cut off.

My DEAR ~ DH had to go to work in this mess last night.  Which meant night plowing before he could sleep.  At times like this I wish I "did" tractors but, me and the mackaneek (<--My geekiness Gungan for droid -- Star Wars) just are not simpatico.  So the man who normally loves plowing had to do his duty so he can go work for our bread~~~THANKS DH <3!!

So here are a few views of night plowing in the pouring rain before having to get up in 2 hours to leave for work....can we have a collective sigh!

I was out there for moral support and a very, very, little shoveling.

I gave Runa a treat to go up on the snow pile...she was not exactly happy about the weather

Out my sewing room window now.  Steady light snow with blowing and drifting.  But I still love winter.  Looking forward to a snowshoe and some shoveling when it all settles down this afternoon.  Spring will be here soon enough all fast and furious.  So enjoying the peace while I can and AM!

The Winter's Spring

The winter comes; I walk alone,
I want no bird to sing;
To those who keep their hearts their own
The winter is the spring.
No flowers to please—no bees to hum—
The coming spring's already come.

I never want the Christmas rose
To come before its time;
The seasons, each as God bestows,
Are simple and sublime.
I love to see the snowstorm hing;
'Tis but the winter garb of spring.

I never want the grass to bloom:
The snowstorm's best in white.
I love to see the tempest come
And love its piercing light.
The dazzled eyes that love to cling
O'er snow-white meadows sees the spring.

I love the snow, the crumpling snow
That hangs on everything,
It covers everything below
Like white dove's brooding wing,
A landscape to the aching sight,
A vast expanse of dazzling light.

It is the foliage of the woods
That winters bring—the dress,
White Easter of the year in bud,
That makes the winter Spring.
The frost and snow his posies bring,
Nature's white spurts of the spring. 

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