December 16, 2020. Pandemic year. Wintery Icy Mix. 3” expected. Temp: 30-31°. Feels like 22°. Winds:NNE 9mph. Humidity:96%
Today, I had a ceramics final on Zoom. I salted my front steps and path across the yard. Perhaps, someone else had gotten to it before me but I wasn’t sure.
I continued on walking down the gravel drive about 50-75 feet to get to the mailbox. I still feel a small headache and a bit off from my slight concussion yesterday.
The postman has of late been gifting us packages wrapped lovingly in garbage bags and attached to the box precariously, tipping the whole stand to one side.
I suppose they became “pandemic” tired of the boxes being delivered daily throughout the months.
Deliveries that caused repeated trips down our rutted gravel drive and up our slick steps to our front porch.
The entire mailbox and the bag containing packages that hung from it were frozen and encased in ice.
The wintry mix is still falling after several hours and it grows darker. Sunset is in two and a half hours.
I can hear the rain on the windows and roof from every room. The windows boast fog in corners and only a circular clear space of each pane is allowing me to peer outside.
I still hear a few bird calls but the rest falls absolutely silent. As I listen, I gaze out beyond the fields to the wooded areas and everything is a crystallized wonderland.
Maybe there wasn’t a blanket of silencing snow, but the rhythm of the rain lulls me to quiet within.