You can figure out how much there is. Maybe half a foot in places, but who cares except the pros? I don’t mean that in a bad way, it’s just something I’ve noticed in myself. Since moving to northern New Mexico fourteen years ago, I’ve seen so much of the stuff that the nominal depth doesn’t really mean anything. It’s just snow! Beautiful and exciting at first, and then you realize you can’t go anywhere. And after the white stuff melts, there’s this apocalypse of mud. The snow could last a while, however, if the cold sets in—not necessarily bad, considering.
I had to go up on the roof twice today, once to clear snow off the skylight to “fix” a leak, and another time to hunt for a missing bird feeder that the raccoons had stolen. Up and down the icy ladder in the cold, yee-haw. (At least I love a challenge.) One thing I remembered to do two days ago was spread a big plastic tarp over our humongous wood pile—we have enough to last until February—so I felt pretty clever when the snow began to fall. Unfortunately a tarp with that much snow on it weighs at least three hundred pounds, but these are things you learn—cover the wood, but have a plan of attack!
(Be sure to compare the photo above with the one in the previous post, by the way.)
John Hamilton Farr lives at 7,000 feet in Ranchos de Taos, New Mexico, U.S.A. As New York Times best-selling author James C. Moore tells it, John is “a man attuned to the world who sees it differently than you and I and writes about it with a language and a vision of life that is impossible to ignore.” This JHFARR.COM site is the master writing archive. To email John, please see CONTACT INFO on .png)
I know what a pain snow can eventually be, but that is a beautiful pic. So homeeeeeee
“Eventually” is how it goes. Everyone’s all rah-rah at first. (I have my first mood swing about the time I walk to the mailbox.) But yes, we’re homey as all get-out here! It makes the world go ’round.
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