BISHOP IN THE SNOW

72-Bishop_01It didn’t snow a lot today — at least not compared to a lot of other days — but it snowed and is still snowing. I keep hoping it’s the last one. That the winds will change and spring will begin to inch into the world.

72-Bishop_08

Not everyone is tired of winter.

Bishop, our big Australian Shepherd, of all our dogs, loves winter. His coat is so thick, so weather-proof, he will — by choice — sleep in a snow drift and let the little dogs use his body as a mattress. They have their own flap door, so this is their choice. They come and go as they please.

72-Bishop_07

To each his or her own. I prefer my recliner and a hot cup of coffee. Or tea.

72-Bishop_02

MARCH FIRST, SUNRISE

72-Sunrise-Early March_04

It’s March. The month of spring, the end of winter. My birthday. This morning, I woke up and looked out the window. It was sunrise. I wanted to go back to sleep. It was so early, but it was a pretty sunrise. Soon (I hope), there will be leaves on the trees. I won’t be able to see the sunrise until next winter.

72-Sunrise-Early March_03

So I went to get my camera. But it’s not that simple. The dogs were waiting. I managed to get them out the door and grab my camera. I took pictures, then went back out to give the required biscuit. You cannot just make the babies go out into the cold and not reward them with something. How do you say “that’s so wrong” in dog?

72-Sunrise-Early March_20

Now, as the light is fading, it’s snowing again. When I looked at the forecast last night, it said snow showers. Tops, an inch or two. Now the prediction calls for heavy snow, maybe five or six inches. Which, as these things go, isn’t much. The pile of snow on my deck is as high as my door. I can’t open my door. I haven’t been able to open it for weeks.

It isn’t supposed to snow again until Tuesday night. I’m relieved to hear that. Aren’t you?

72-Sunrise-Early March_06

I took all the pictures with the Pentax Q7 … and without my eyeglasses. I forgot to put them on, probably for the first time in 50 years. Let’s hear it for auto-focus.

SUNSHINE – THE BRIGHT REWARD

WEEKLY PHOTO CHALLENGE: REWARD

What does reward mean to you?

72-Out Back -2-26_27B

After a week of gray skies, today the sun came out. It snowed yesterday and overnight. It may snow tomorrow. But right now, this morning, the sky is deep blue and the shadows are long across the snow.

72-Out Back -2-26_34

The birds are squabbling … a crow is trying to push the juncos out of their forsythia bush. There’s an energy that has been missing in the darker days of this past month. Maybe spring is coming after all?

Taken with the Pentax Q7.

WHICH WAY TO GO IN A WORLD OF SNOW

Cee’s Which Way Photo Challenge: 2015 Week #8

72-Blizzard-Driveway-025

I was out in the car with Garry yesterday for the first time in more than a week. I was forcibly reminded how strange the world looks when piles of snow obscure common landmarks, how changed the outline of familiar places become.

72-Dirty-Snow_05

How can I know

Which is the right way to go

In a world full of snow?

72-Dirty-Snow_02

AN ICONIC SNOW SHOVEL

72-Closeup-Snow-Shovel_002

By midday yesterday, the kid had finished shoveling the roof. Of course, all that snow had to go somewhere. As he worked, I could see huge piles of it falling off the roof in a veritable avalanche.

snow shovel in oil

Our already mostly buried deck lost any semblance of a pathway. One had recently been dug so the kid with the shovel could get up onto the roof to shovel it. Now, with our ladder stuck in a snowdrift until spring and the shovel, like a pennant, at the top of the big drift … I hope we don’t need to get out of the house via the deck. Because it’s impassable.

snow shove solarized

Yet, somehow, I loved the image made by that big yellow shovel stuck in the snow. And of course, I had to take a few pictures.

72-Snow-Shovel_004

A final note. The ice dams are melting. Slowly, I admit, but there is a steady dripping from all of them. I am taking this as a harbinger of better days to come.

PRETTY. NOT FROZEN. WITH BRIGHT COLORS.

It snowed. Again. We had a couple of days intermission, but it doesn’t seem we’ve had a real pause between storms. I did not take any pictures of today’s storm. I wasn’t feeling inspired. More like depressed. I hoped we’d miss this one. It wasn’t a big storm. A itty bitty one, but still a storm.

72-Oil-IceDam-WinterView_03

Maybe I’ll take a few pictures tomorrow. The new pictures will look exactly like the previous pictures. I’m limited to taking pictures from my doorways. All three of them — back, front, and side. Then there are views from my picture window, a few through my kitchen or bathroom windows. They seem unchanged, except for the growth of the ice dams.

72-OIL-Feb10-Sunset_Snow_051

More snow looks the same as it has looked since the first storm at the end of January. Hard to believe until January 27th, the ground was clear.

I’m sure we will remember this as the most brutal and brief winter ever.

The buildup of ice along the back of the house is bad, but there’s nothing we can do about it until it warms up and melts. It’s too thick to break and pulling it off will take the gutters with them.

We’re going to have some repairs to do on the roof and siding when this is over. That’s what insurance is for. This kind of damage is covered and we will not be the only ones putting in claims as spring comes and we can to assess the damage.

In the meantime, Garry brought home flowers the other day. So, rather than shooting more snow, I thought I’d shoot flowers. Because they are pretty, not frozen, and colorful.

A COLD DAY

It was bitterly cold outside and downright nippy inside when I got up yesterday morning. The temperature was below zero, so I figured our aging heating system had been over-matched. I slipped into sweatpants. Added heavy socks and a pair of house booties. Warm sweater. Poncho over sweater. I was still cold.

ice dams february

Cruelly, I forced the poor doggies to go outside. I apologized with biscuits and wrapped them in blankets when they came back. They brought winter with them. Damn. The house was cold. I looked at the thermostat. It read 64, but it felt colder.

ice dam februrary 2015

I got a cup of coffee. Drank it. Got another cup. Drank it, too. Still not warm. Especially my hands.

Owen got back from work and came up to tell me the boiler wasn’t working. Which explained the lack of heat. It’s a testament to how good our insulation is the house remained as warm as it did. Meanwhile, I realized my bathroom window was sealed tight by a thick layer of ice in the window. On the screen. In the frame itself. That in addition to the ice dams along the eaves.

72-One-More-Blizzard_09Owen had found a kid to come over and get the snow off the roof. He and the boiler repair guy showed up at the same time. The kid couldn’t move the ice dams at all and he’ll be back today to finish the snow. He was late getting started. Suddenly, it was too dark to work.

ice dam February 2015

Nothing but warmer temps and sunshine is going to melt that ice. At least it won’t get worse if the roof is clear of snow. Today’s storm is supposed to be tiny, just a couple of fluffy inches. I hope they are right. We have had more than enough.

Last night, I heard the funniest weather report. The meteorologist said there would be snow “somewhere in northern New England, probably New Hampshire or Maine. It will be very cold.” He wasn’t sure how much snow, or exactly when it would start, but he was sure there would be snow. Somewhere in New England.

You could give that forecast anytime during January or February in New England. You would always be right. You don’t need a weatherman to know which way that wind blows.

Next weekend? We’ll cross that storm when we come to it.

72-One-More-Blizzard_07

Winter is ending. A glance at the calendar screams “spring is just around the corner,” even though it looks like winter in Siberia. It’s warm again, inside. Our boiler is chugging away. The cold spell won’t last forever.

Although I have no empirical evidence to support my opinion, I firmly believe spring will come.