An arctic front blew through today, with gusty wind and blinding snow squalls. The snow came soft and slow at first, falling gently, drifting down like a Christmas snow, looking more picturesque than anything else. Then the wind came, and the squalls, the billowing, blinding snow that hid even the nearest buildings and made the store I work in creak in protest. It's an old building, in drastic need of some serious work; the roof leaks and the walls are cracked. I almost expect it to cave in after a heavy snow.
It was a slow day at work - one small sale, and hours and hours of nothing to do. I had to pace to keep from falling asleep, especially after it started to get dark. No one was out in the difficult weather. I wouldn't have been out, if I'd had a choice. This is hibernation weather, weather best spent inside, making and eating soup; reading, writing and making out seed orders.
By the time I scraped off the car and headed home, the snow had ended and the clouds were breaking into gothic, silver-edged tatters, with the near-full moon shining though the mist of windblown snow that tore across the ground. The road near open fields had drifted pretty full, and sheets of snow streamed across in front of me, diffusing my headlight beams.
The wind is still blowing, though it has dropped some. I can hear it roaring through the pines, and feel the occasional sharp, cold draft, like a passing ghost, as the wind sneaks in around the ill-fitting storm windows. It's supposed to be a little below zero tonight - it may be there already. I will have to pull the drapes and shut out the cold.
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