Zero Degrees at 5:30 In The Morning

Old Glory During Blizzard

7:00

Why I am up at 5:30 is a mystery, but here I am, in utter darkness, and the sun won't rise for another two hours (7:32) and yet, I am happy enough, listening to NPR, sipping coffee, and I liked today's Wendell Berry poem from The Writer's Almanac enough to include it below, an unexpected paean to 'getting old.'
VII
by Wendell Berry

I know I am getting old and I say so,
but I don't think of myself as an old man.
I think of myself as a young man
with unforeseen debilities. Time is neither
young nor old, but simply new, always
counting, the only apocalypse. And the clouds
—no mere measure or geometry, no cubism,
can account for clouds or, satisfactorily, for bodies.
There is no science for this, or art either.
Even the old body is new—who has known it
before?—and no sooner new than gone, to be
replaced by a body yet older and again new.
The clouds are rarely absent from our sky
over this humid valley, and there is a sycamore
that I watch as, growing on the riverbank,
it forecloses the horizon, like the years
of an old man. And you, who are as old
almost as I am, I love as I loved you
young, except that, old, I am astonished
at such a possibility, and am duly grateful.

Yesterday was mostly spent waiting for the storm.  It was miserable outside, extraordinary winds most of the day, with gusts up to fifty miles an hour.  It seemed as if  it would never stop its howling outside our windows.  It did not snow in earnest until mid afternoon but there was lots of blowing snow most of the day. We had planned on going for wings at the VFW but knew the weather might throw a wrench into our outing, so Evie put together a beef stew in the morning, slow cooked it in the oven for a couple of hours in case the weather was bad.  And it was, obviously.   I did venture outside around 4:30, to clear the driveway, and it was surprisingly comfortable, as I must have been protected from the winds by our house, though I only stayed out for about 15 minutes.  It did little good because within an hour, the snow had covered the driveway again and it looked at though I had never touched it.

Tufted  Titmouse On Frozen Branch 

So most of the day was spent expecting the worst (loss of electricity or cable) but fortunately we were spared that.  I did get a lot of reading in, the good part of the day, and there is nothing like reading with the smell of a stew wafting through the house.  We decided to break our rules, and have a Manhattan before dinner, because of the howling storm out our window, the blizzard conditions, the darkening sky...a good night for a drink!

4:20 PM

Howling Winds

Dinner was great, with a salad and Evie had frozen some mashed potatoes last week, pulled them out of the freezer, let them thaw, then warmed them, added milk and butter and they were as good as if she had just made them.  No movie last night,  just Colbert and Stewart, some Ohio University basketball, then we raced through American Idol before going to bed and reading.  The wind had died down by the time we were in bed, so it was easy to fall asleep, with no worries of falling branches. 

6:23 PM

It's now 6:50 and the skyline is beginning to turn light blue, a clear sky and cold. Breakfast at the Bemus Point Inn in an hour.  And a solitary, intrepid fisherman is tromping out to the middle of the lake.