Endless Winter: ceaseless blowing, drifting sheets of whiteness

"Leaden skies tested the patience and sanity of winter-weary New Englanders once again over the weekend, unleashing more than two feet of new snow on parts of the region. It was the latest installment in a relentless string of storms that have blended, one into the next, enveloping every car and every home so that nothing has a distinct shape anymore; the landscape is just one seamless blanket of white."

It is hard to remember when the snows began, and even harder to imagine when they might end. There are almost no humans to be seen outdoors, just the blowing, drifting sheets of whiteness

“It reminds me of ‘Little House on the Prairie,’ when Pa walked to the barn from his second-story window,” chirped the anchorwoman.

But for others, the bleak elegy of James Joyce has crept to mind: “His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.”

Ghostly apparition hovering in our field:
"Oh of what do you foretell:
doom or resurrection?"
CC Jean Stimmell

 ––––––––––––––––

Quotes are from the New York Times today. Photos are
from our homestead, trying real hard to stay
one step ahead of Raven.