Skip to main content

In The Depths

Albert Camus: In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.
Mid Winter...the point where many people either flee the country for warmer climates or hunker down and try to get through the rotating snowstorms without expending too much effort wielding the snow shovel.


Snow covered riverside and mountains from Rural



We're neither fleeing or hunkering...yes it's been bitterly cold. There was a snap happening...not the crisp green garden pea plucked from a green tendril kind of snap. It was alternating blowing wind, multiple power outages, chilling temperatures, and masses of snow that seem to be flummoxing even the most hardened Okanaganer's resolve.

That spell is over now...and here we are settling into the depths...

Watching the snow fall off in mini avalanches of fluffy meringue from the dark trees standing tall outside the ice-covered windows. Looking out at the snow covered landscape, where for a few days hardly anyone ventured out in the intense cold. The snow covered back roads covered with the white stuff, and empty of vehicles, except for the infrequent snowplow creating its misleading edge that were determined to suck in unwary drivers over the edge into snowmageddon and enforce long waits for tow trucks.

Wild birds of all sizes flock to the feeders gulping down a life-saving mouthfuls, huddling on snow covered branches above the feeder while Bella our grey tabby watches through the window with the open eyed stare of a child in front of their favourite TV show.

Our poor snowblower has been getting more high-intensity workouts than a January Gym.

There is so much snow that the garden has disappeared underneath it...raised beds covered with white quilts, pathways that I had been studiously digging out in the falling snow for a month or more now erased indefinitely by an over accumulation of the white stuff.


Prints from a raccoon in the Okanagan from the blog Rural



In the morning we find the long-toed footprints of raccoons who were wandering between my frozen kale beds...searching for birdseed to supplement their diet. And then footprints on the back porch left behind by a roaming neighbour's night kitty foolishly braving the -23 c temperatures have now melted...the memory of cold paws and his regret over demanding to be let outside must be lingering.

Sometimes the motion detector lights will flash in the night, startling Bella, who sleeps in the cold space between the window, and the insulated curtains...the twin glares of reflected deer retina glowing while they forage in the frozen salad bar of our compost.


Bare branches with snow on them, from the blog Rural



In the depths...it's the least we can do for them while sitting in our warm cozy home. The stockpiled birdseed and suet cakes are scattered multiple times a day.

There are signs of the season moving forward,its in the change that can be seen in the pussywillows bare branches, tiny buds of white cracking open despite the cold. The light has changed lately it's somehow brighter at midday..the sweet glow of sun peeking between the grey clouds lifting our hearts.

Occasional sunny afternoons have been leaving pearl coated glows on our hearts...winter's a time to cozy up, but also to enjoy. There's snowshoeing and frosty walks, icicles, and winter covered mountains...it's all there for us to enjoy.

Jen @ Rural








Comments

Lorrie said…
That's a beautiful photo of your corner of BC, Jen. I didn't mind the cold snap here - at least the snow brightened up the dullness of January. Now we're into rain, rain, and more rain. It's not quite as beautiful as your winter. Stay cozy!
RURAL said…
Hi Lori, having lived up here now for a while, and most of my life down there...I have to admit that I much prefer the snow...even if it's measured in feet, and months, not inches and days...LOL.

Hope that you are able to stay dry, I've seen pics of the massive amounts of rain you've been getting.The bonus to all that rain is that your snowdrops come in floral form, and ours are from the sky.

Jen

Popular posts from this blog

The Bear, the Buck and Bella: Notes from a summer garden

We had a visitor the other night. We get a revolving parade of animals some more welcome then others...this one was stealthy, while the other paraded down the street as if out for an afternoon stroll. One visitor made me smile with delight, the other...every so rudely ate the empty quail egg from my decorative bird's nest on my front porch.  And then it b umped into my heavy garden bench sitting by the front door and moved that a few feet, not my kind of visitor... I've got too many childhood encounters with bears to ever be comfortable with them this close. Camping, and living among their world has makes me observant, but cautious.  After eating the quail egg, the bear decided to try out the path to the front garden, and despite its size, not one blossom was bruised...I will give it that. The young buck was a visitor who waltzed down the street in front of our house. It's fuzzy two point antlers proudly held high, and it brought a smile to our faces...it was curious and bo

Not wasting a second of this season

It's only the second day of Autumn, and all puns aside.. I've Fall-en in love with this season all over again... The soft warming tones of russets, and golds, the way the colors on the trees have just barely started to glow. It's beautiful and favors us with a glow. It's as if the trees are teasing us by tossing their leaves secretly behind our backs...twinkling down so quietly. Autumn is a graceful ageing process, the reverse of spring when everything is reborn, now it's dying, falling, leaving us...and yet across the world, there is renewal. We're still in the honeymoon stage of this season, it's all new, and oh so beautiful. Remarkable, and remarked upon by nearly everyone. Chock full of a colorful texture that will stay for a while, until suddenly the landscape will reveal it's self as an empty house...bereft, forlorn, windows gaping open sadly. The branches will tighten up with the howling wind, and the once vibrant jewel

If A Tree Falls

There's a phrase that reads... If a tree falls                                in the forest........ And no one is there. ....                                 Will anyone hear it? Writing blog posts can feel like that at times...                                 If I write it...                                 Does anyone read it?                                 Should I bother, is it even worth it? Then I realized....a blog post is like a tree in the forest.   If it's been written, someone will read it and even if they don't leave a comment it's still been noticed, read, probably enjoyed and it's out there representing what Rural is. I've come to the realization that if a tree falls in the forest, it's heard...by the forest. So I'm continuing to write these blog posts 'cause I want to bring you more of those moments that feel ever so profoundly Rural. Like the time an entire murder of black crows coat