Because we had been riding for nine hours, Lucky and I bolted from the car and went, pronto, for a walk. Because we had driven from a place that was sunny and mild with dry roads, I was wearing a light jacket and sneakers.
While we were away, two feet of heavy wet spring snow had fallen. The power had been knocked out; the whole town was in darkness. Except that a three-quarter moon shone down from the cold clear sky and the snow-whomped earth shone back, the way it must have in days of old, before we got electrified. The snow-laden branches formed lumpy, dimly sparkling walls of white. It was pretty magical.
I shivered in my thin jacket. My sneakers got soaked and my toes got cold. Which made me think (while my thoughts were in those olden days) of Valley Forge. All those men in too-thin coats and inadequate footwear. For just a moment I thought I could imagine, if I multiplied the thinness of my jacket, the coldness and wetness of my feet, and the duration of my walk by a billion or so, what that was like.
Tagged: Lynne Rae Perkins, Northern Michigan, snow
your words here made me cry. you are the queen of empathy and detail. xo
I love your painting (pastel?) of you walking your dog in the snow. The landscape was indeed magical.
Beautiful: your words and your picture. You have such a gift for weaving together stories and images.
It was indeed a magical time with all that snow and no lights surrounding us!
Beutiful words and illustration. Love seeing your work space.
Nathan wants to make a picture of you ‘on’ the splucked trees( his word for broken limbs and trees split by the storm). Caleb wanted to see the picture of Lucy’s mom and the boys and the dog in the snow again.
Funny how one picture from ‘Snow Music’ melds in the mind of children with a new winter scene so beautiful!