I sit and watch the snow fall for hours on end. I am fascinated by the change in the landscape from cafe au lait to vanilla icing.

I am mesmerized above all by the stark contrasts of snow on trees. Denuded brown trees, arms arcing skyward, contrast sharply with snow against the gray sky. Nature spreads her thick, white icing on bare branches to outline them against the landscape, as if to say, “Look at me! I’m still here!”

Tall, majestic pines, firs and spruces bow their branches under dollops of icing.

The icing drapes each bough protectively. From time to time, a squirrel scampers from tree to tree, creating a mini snowstorm. Branches willingly release their load.

Plip, plop, another clump of icing drops from limb to limb, like squirrels having a snowball fight.

I am instantly reminded of Jack London’s “To Build a Fire,” in which a solitary (but for a dog) traveler through the Yukon builds a fire under a fully loaded spruce.

He pulls twigs off the branches and drops them onto the fire. This agitation disturbs the equilibrium of the snow. An avalanche rushes down from the treetop and falls upon the blaze, extinguishing it completely. The man has no more matches. (I vow to never build a fire under the trees in my back yard!)

Weather Journal

6 hours ago