Unfriendly Weather

Monday's sunshine didn't prepare me for the downturn of weather on Tuesday and Wednesday. 

Wind accompanied by sun isn't as disheartening as the dark lashings we took yesterday. 

Rain fell in spiteful spurts, beading on bare branches, creating a vast sponge where moles have tunneled under the black walnut trees. 

I have kept to my discipline of walking, heading out during the momentary lulls.

I prowled about in the area at the lower end of the west meadow, remembering the bleakness of the winter [2019] spent in a 5th wheel camper while building this house. The house occupied by former owners had burned [perhaps under strange circumstances] and our view was of the rubble left behind. 

Trees near that house were damaged by the fire and will likely have to be cut down at some point. 

Somehow the wounds seem more noticeable when wet.

Hickory nuts, black walnuts and acorns have become imbedded in the softened ground. 

A rounded bole at the base of a tree. 

It looks as though some small creature may have created a dwelling in this cavity.

Robert chose to plod along with me.

Shelby is a menace, rolling over my feet when I stop for a moment, then dashing off as though some threat--invisible to humans--is on her trail.

The wind crashed and howled through Tuesday night dashing rain against the windows, wuthering around the corners of the house. 

I opened my bedroom window a mere inch letting in the cold scent of rain. I was still reading at midnight when an unmistakable whiff of skunk drifted in. I considered closing the window, but the odor was quickly gone--gathered up, whooshed away.  It had caught the attention of the cats snoozing at the foot of the bed, bringing them upright to stare wide-eyed, sniffing, 

Today the digital thermometer recorded only a few degrees above freezing all day. 

I walked two and a half loops of the meadow paths, coming back to the house for my camera to record the scarf of snow around an east boundary tree. 

It wasn't raining but a sense of damp cold stayed with me long after I came inside.

I considered putting another coat of paint on my bookcase, but the sunless sunroom wasn't appealing.

I accomplished the usual cleaning chores, went over music for the coming weekend's church service. 

I was inspired to bake molasses cookies, enjoying the scent of cinnamon and ginger.

I played with old photos and maps.

Considering the weather that has impacted much of the country, I'm not seriously complaining about ours, rather making note.

We have the warmth of the woodstove along with cookies and tea. I have books. Tomorrow I'll make a fresh pot of soup, perhaps a batch of bread. 

If the sun should appear I will rush joyfully out to admire it!