Storm thoughts - winter 2015

I'm not sure a picture is worth a thousand words today because this picture can't tell you how the storm feels when it's spraying against your cheeks and eyes and lips, or what it tastes like--icy metallic on your tongue. But words can. Words can say what your boots feel like when they're sliding over lumpy snow, or how the wind feels against your shoulders when it's nudging you sideways, then bumping you hard a few times for good measure to remind you that you are small in the manner of insignificant. Words can tell you how the storm can blind you if it wants to in a slap of show dust; and how it can yank a shovel out of your hands in a gust of exuberance, tipping you off balance. And, they can tell you how--back inside, warm and feeling safe, soup on the stove--the storm has a wound: your windows are rattling, your walls are humming. The sky is vibrating throughout your house.

The morning after.