I raced out of the house as fast as I could, ran through snow drifts, fell face first, but still couldn't catch the remarkable sight of a strong Northwest wind sweeping across the farm stirring up the cold icy/snow crystals in front of the setting sun.
As subtle as this landscape can appear, one can observe huge changes over seconds-- setting sun, rising sun, wind whipped snow, the sound of my own feet dislodging ice crystals that clatter across the hardened snow drifts (sound a lot like ocean waves retreating with pebbles).
Church this morning 1/4/08 we sang:
In the Bleak MIdwinter (by Christina Georgina Rossetti, 1830-1894. I've longed admire the poetry of CGR, most prominently Goblin Market, and did not consider her a source of hymns.) It was the perfect hymn for today- cold and more snow.
In the bleak midwinter
frosty wind made moan,
earth stood hard as iron,
winter like a stone;
snow had fallen,
snow on snow, snow on snow,
in the bleak midwinter, long ago.
Really-- just the perfect hymn for today.