The big storm began around 10 a.m.,and one of the things I very much appreciate about the big storms is the silence they bring with them. The world becomes quiet, primal, there are few trucks and cars, stores and schools and businesses close, the big plows usually wait until the weather settles.

Looking out of my window, I see an occasional brave little car taking somebody to work who has to go to work. I am grateful to work at home, and for myself. Except for chores, shoveling and shopping, a storm day is not really all that different from any other day.

The birds come to the feeders are little more urgently, perhaps, the donkeys and sheep hole up in the Pole Barn, Red and I went out to check on them and everybody was dry and in their place, waiting for the storm to pass. They have good fresh hay and warm water and shelter, that is all I can give them, and more than they really need.

Red is, as always, oblivious to weather, he just keeps order. Maria came in from her studio to have lunch – we had soup. She is making some wonderful hanging piece, and is happy. We go out every once i awhile to shovel, in this kind of storm, the paths are obliterated before we even get back into the house.

I have a veggie thin-crust pizza from the Round House in the freezer, that will be dinner. We’ll shovel some more, and then read for a few hours. I might need a nap. I am thinking of making a dash for the Mansion this afternoon, my poetry workshop is today at 2:30. Maria, who calls me a snow pussy, says I shouldn’t go, but I know she would go in a flash if it was her workshop.

I see the plows beginning to come out, I might just go for it, but we’ll see. Snow storms are a part of life up here in the winter, and I don’t like to let them drive me indoors.

For now, the Merry-Go-Round has stopped and I am drinking in the silence and feeling of solitude.