Snow was falling when I got up a couple of hours ago.
It’s falling still.
We have been under snow since, I think, January 3rd. The day of rain we had a couple of weeks ago served only to solidify the flake into a sheet of ice, upon which another six inches or so of fresh snow has accumulated.
My town practices “alternate side parking” when two or more inches have fallen. Odd numbered sides on odd days, and so on. Folks are now so accustomed that at the first sign of snow, they rush to seize a parking spot on the appropriate side.
The weather forecast contains rumor of 40 in a few days. For a day. Then back below freezing.
My garden is covered by nearly a foot of snow. At this point, with this forecast, one must wonder what is likely to survive. Rabbits are stripping bark on the smaller shrubs. A dogwood I planted last fall has been buried for two months. A reluctant tree peony that I’ve been nursing along for a couple of years, and that finally showed signs of cheering up and growing last year, is also buried. Are the early bulbs trying under the ice, or waiting? I imagine that farmers are wondering.
When will it end?