Okay. It snowed.
For several days, the forecast said, for Sunday, 80% chance of snow. I did not find that credible. Snow is really, really rare for Central Texas. It’s really, really amazing, but pretty rare. So I was in a, rather, whatever frame of mind. I slept a little late on Sunday morning, and when I got up, I did look out the window, just in case, and Ollie, Mollie, Gollie, snow was falling, quite steadily. The tree limbs already had snow stacking up, and the fence next door sported a significant accumulation. Well, significant for Central Texas. And, even more amazing, the snow kept falling down.
I kept on checking, thinking that, as soon as it stopped, I’d go out and take some photos, to be able to get the maximum snowfall photos.
Looking out the front door, late morning. This is some serious snow for Central Texas.
And then, looking out the kitchen window, at the back yard. There was a bird on the bird feeder, and I verrrrry carefully edged over to get a photo, but, I’m not as careful and stealthy as I thought I could be, and he took off. Trust me, there was a bird!
I kept looking out the window, checking the snow. At one point, the flakes were, well, not flakes, but large blobs of snow falling, made up, it seemed, of scores of actual flakes. It was like a movie.
The back yard and patio–
All the patio plants are either winter hardy or they die down with colder weather and make a come back in the spring. More tender plants are in the little plastic greenhouse. Some of those will most likely not survive the winter, but, some will. I looked in on Thursday afternoon and they all look all right. If we get a deeper freeze, some will need to be replaced.
This photo shows the footprints of my next door neighbor, who trekked over in the late afternoon. When we answered the doorbell, I was surprised to see her. She was doing what neighbors do . . . she needed a cup of flour for making dinner, not having realized that she was out. I asked if her kids were at home (there are four of them), but they were at their Dad’s. She said that we’d have heard them, playing outside, if they’d been at home.
I said that, if I had heard them, I’ve have come over and, if they’d been making snowmen, I’d have offered our snow to them, if their yard didn’t have enough.
The last bit of snow, on Wednesday afternoon.
And, on the right, on Thursday afternoon . . .
These bougainvilleas have a lovely brick-colored flower. I like the way they look with the bricks on the house. After they were so swaddled in snow, I thought they’d be all done for the season. But, they’ve put out new little flowers and seem quite unscathed by the wintry weather.
Just as rain and snow descend from the skies
and don’t go back until they’ve watered the earth,
doing their work of making things grow and blossom,
producing seed for farmers and food for the hungry,
so will the words that come out of my mouth
not come back empty-handed.
They’ll do the work I sent them to do,
they’ll complete the assignment I gave them.
So you’ll go out in joy,
you’ll be led into a whole and complete life.
The mountains and hills will lead the parade,
bursting with song.
All the trees of the forest will join the procession,
exuberant with applause.
Isaiah 66:10-12 (The Message Translation)
My dad grew up in northern Ohio. There, snow began falling in the autumn, and it stayed until early spring. I remember one fall, when we were on the phone, chatting with Daddy’s family. Suddenly, my uncle said, with a big sigh of resignation (or maybe a little bit of frustration), “It’s snowing.” “Oh, wow,” we said, with excitement! He was not nearly as enthusiastic as we were. I guess we’re more excited about a snowfall because we don’t have to shovel the stuff.
It was such a wonderful surprise.