Snow at Last

Dog-dish tiddly winks

The temperature may dip down below 10 degrees F, Trav’s outside water may freeze solid every night, and longjohns, a wool sweater, and sheepskin slippers may be a constant part of my indoor wardrobe, but it isn’t really winter until it snows.

Some years the approach of Groundhog Day is a source of relief and great anticipation: winter might be coming to an early end! This year? Hunh. How do you anticipate the end of something that hasn’t happened yet?

Yesterday it finally happened. It snowed. It snowed all day. It snowed more than the dusting we were expecting. It snowed enough to shovel the deck and stairs. It snowed enough to don waterproof pants and calf-high boots. It snowed.

I ran out of both milk and chewing gum, which gave me an excuse to drive to the grocery store while it was still snowing. The visibility wasn’t great, State Road was half plowed, and of course the back way out wasn’t plowed at all because it never is. Malvina Forester made it handily there and back with nary a thought of a skid.

Snowy trail with fuzzy butt

This morning Travvy and I struck out for our morning walk with about four inches of snow on the ground.  Snow-walking reminds you of muscles you’d forgotten you had: it’s tough on the calves, like walking in loose sand. Every winter at least once I wish I had cross-country skis and the ability to use them. I also fantasize being towed across the snow by my four-paw-power housemate, even though I’d probably end up nose-to-bark with a tree when he took off after a rabbit.

Snow transforms familiar scenes into painterly landscapes. I was glad I’d tucked my little point-and-shoot into my vest pocket.

This is the Nat’s Farm field across Old County Road from the West Tisbury School. Most mornings it looks pretty ordinary. Not today.

The bike path was a snowy carpet possibly leading to a magical place, but we were headed in the other direction.

My noble snow dog, in his element.

The fir tree outside my west-facing window

Given the extra effort of walking in snow, I thought to abridge our route by cutting through the Nat’s Farm subdivision, but no: walking through snow that no one has walked through before was too tempting, and the sky was moodily beautiful. We trudged on. Trav pounced on little critters moving in the grass and missed all of them. I gawked at the sky and took the occasional picture. Winter really is here.






About Susanna J. Sturgis

Susanna edits for a living, writes to survive, and has been preoccupied with electoral politics since 2016. She just started a blog about her vintage T-shirt collection: "The T-Shirt Chronicles." Her other blogs include "From the Seasonally Occupied Territories," about being a year-round resident of Martha's Vineyard, and "Write Through It," about writing, editing, and how to keep going.
This entry was posted in Martha's Vineyard and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Snow at Last

  1. Sara Crafts says:

    This is beautiful, Susanna. Almost made me like it … between your beautiful pics and poetic description I almost don’t mind that Jan posts about taking off for San Miguel Allende for two months! Makes me think back when I had the Samoyed who used to lie in the snow, also, until she was invisible.


    • Rhodry used to do that. It took a while for him to become invisible since his guard coat was dark gray, but it happened. Travvy, on the other hand, is more of an indoor guy. Cold he doesn’t mind, but he doesn’t like being wet — and it doesn’t take snow long to melt if he’s lying on top of it.


  2. Pam Coblyn says:

    This is the most beautiful post you’be written. You managed to evoke the peacefulness of your journey. I felt each trudge through the snow and that warm feeling of exhausted muscles . I bet Travvy was hardly panting!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.