A Snowy Day

What a couple of days!  All my friends have thoroughly covered the Sunday snow storm, and it now seems redundant to even talk about it, but here I am with my perspective on matters.  My perspective is – I was really sad that I had to go to work on Sunday, as the snow seemed to be a foot high, and it was the perfect day to not venture outside the door.  The perfect day for sipping tea and settling in with a good book. 

Sunday morning, as I walked to choir practice, the first flakes were gently meandering down.  I hoped that only a few would meander, but such was not to be.  Although many choir members come from far away, nearly everyone was there - a good thing – since we were singing an eight part Bruckner Agnus Dei, and even a few folks lacking could have made it impossible.  Jim had the “Lamb of God” from The Messiah on hand as Plan B, but we were able to stick to Plan A, and sing the subtle and exquisite Agnus Dei.  Bruckner and I have had issues in the past, especially with Agnus Deis.  A couple of years ago, we were singing different one, and it was really difficult.  At least for me, it was.  I had practiced and practiced and felt that I had it down pat.  Then, during the actual performance, I had a little mind blink, and totally lost the place. Maybe I had turned two pages at once or something, but I simply could not find where we were, and was getting more and more frantic.  Not helpful, of course.  I tried to shrink into an inconspicuous little speck, but failed at that and was caught out. I believe I realized where we were about two measures before the end of the piece.  Another time we were singing a Bruckner Agnus Dei, and I got all wobbly and faint.  Horrors!  Passing out at church would be the worst.  (Oddly, people seem to do it all the time.  All that kneeling and standing up, I imagine.)  I sat down and sang, feeling both woozy and conspicuous, but happily, the worst did not happen.  This Sunday, the spell was broken, and the Agnus Dei was mercifully uneventful.  And was very beautiful.

On the way home, there were more flakes wafting down, but they seemed to disappear just as they reached the earth. Then, as I was getting dressed for work, the heavens opened, and not gentle flakes, but huge blobs came hurtling down.  In a very short time, there seemed to be at least a foot-thick carpet on the ground.  Margaret was ecstatic, but I was less pleased, as I had to slog through it to get to work and, worse yet, slog home again at midnight.  As I was coming home on my usual route through Seattle U, I was suddenly bewildered and couldn’t find my path.  How can the snow have made things so confusing, I wondered.  The path goes between some trees and a lot of bushes, and I finally realized that one of the trees had fallen, changing the landscape entirely.  The photo is taken just after I made my way around the fallen tree.  Aside from the worry about slipping on the glassy ice, I always enjoy walking home from work in the snow, seeing the students frolicking in the wee hours, sledding and making snowpeople, and this evening was no exception.

And on Monday, I did have the perfect snow day, sipping tea and reading my book. 

O heavens!  I just looked out the window, and it is coming down again, and not in gentle single flecks, but in hearty big feather factory bunches.  I hope I enjoy walking home from work again tonight.  Somehow, coming through the snow at midnight seems much nicer in retrospect than in prospect.