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Support, help, advice & information for Multiple Sclerosis. Ask questions & share experiences with people affected by MS.



Posted by Tabbycat , 31 December 2014 · 533 views

Snow had been forecast all week, but the bare soil remained stubbornly sodden, brown and unlovely. Like a child I woke up each morning and my first view of the titles of the barn roof over the road shone only with fresh rain. Finally, like an imperious toddler, I commanded the sky to snow and in the morning the roofes were white.
The garden was filling up with swirls of tiny flakes of snow that blew themselves everywhere. They plastered the chain link fence and made a solid wall of white between the teasel and my neighbor's  apple trees; they dusted the log pile under the roof and even swept onto the upturned sun lounger cushion that had never been put away after the summer. The bird feeders were towers of inedible ice and the sun flower seeds were frozen in their metal nets. Between the cascades of powdering, smothering snow the birds reappeared and fluffed themselves hopefully in the utterly still , thick silence that only happens after snow.
With the feeders cleared , seed scattered, bread strewed and cats confined to the house they came down in numbers , chaffinches, a robin, house sparrows, tree sparrows, a blackbird, blue tits, great tits, marsh tits and cleverest of all, two green finches who simply sat on the well stocked table and did not move all morning as they fed themselves warm again in situ . Above two Ravens called and a field fare plunged into the few apples still clinging to my neighbour' s tree.
Eventually I could resist no longer and bundled in as many clothes as I could walk in, ploughed out to the woods. I feel very safe in thick snow. With two walking poles and layers of coats, I think if I fall over this time, I will be cushioned by the duvet of snow. (The only problem is navigating the pavements that other have " cleared" which means they have turned them into lethal ice rinks!)
Once safely amongst the trees we stopped just to hear the sound eaten silence , surrounded by fir trees with improbable blobs of thick snow and beech branches bowed down to the ground . With a wack from my stick the snow is dislodged and they spring up wards showering me in snow, liberated from the icy weight they shiver themselves clean on the rebound.
It is impossible not be joyous in such a place, all childish delight in transformation and magic is rekindled and I limp home, feeling young again.

Wonderful writing.

I feel like I am there in those woods!
Lovely words and so nicely put.

Happy New Year


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