We live on a dirt road, off a dirt road, in the wilds of a little mountain-top town called Becket in the Berkshire Hills of western Massachusetts. Our weather patterns are harsher than most around us. It snows more, frosts earlier, and thaws later.
Today we have snow – a lot of it. It is coming down hard and fast.
I love it. Love to play out in it and the idea of having to stay put for the day while it piles high allowing time for the things otherwise pushed aside for our cultural rushing.
As I sit here in peaceful quiet, the inches are accumulating. We are not going to skating lessons a the city rink, we are not having a kid/adult workshop this afternoon at Shire City Sanctuary, not visiting mom down in the valley, we are not grocery shopping, or running errands. We are staying home. One girl is playing in our new hammock hanging in her room, periodically pirroetting with tutu, wand and sparkly shoes across the length of the cozy house. The other is bundled up in the cold, digging a hole in a snowbank. Our two mama dogs are tending to their new litters. I am burning a fire in the fireplace, planning our 2013.