Hard and Fast

Winter in a hurry

As I prepare breakfast, there is a mere sprinkle of sleet on the ground. A light, steady stream continues to fall.

Doctor Foster went to Gloucester
In a shower of rain,
He stepped in a puddle,
Right up to his middle,
And never went there again.

- A nursery rhyme my parents taught me, inserted here from the Words for Life site

As I look out the kitchen window this morning, I notice a streak of white on the road. Snow, really? Nobody said… [They probably did, but I’m eschewing news in an effort to stay sane.]

The weather app tells me the precipitation will stop soon. I go about my Saturday morning chores expecting the rest of the day to be sunny. It’s not.

Snow and farmers’ markets - two of my favorite things all at once. I’m verklempt.

Beautiful, huge flakes cascade down as I wrap up the vegetable run.

By the time I get to the West Windsor Community Farmers’ Market, it changes to snow. As I make my last stop at the Chickadee Creek Farm stall, the flakes are huge and sticky. I can feel them grow on my eyelashes. My shopping bags have a thick crust of white when I heave them into the trunk of the car.

The snow picks up as I approach the grocery store.

Near the Princeton Wegmans, it’s starting to come down. A salt truck wanders past, a brown fountain spraying wildly from its rear. I keep my distance.

Three quarters of an hour later, it’s still snowing hard. There’s at least an inch of snow on the cars.

A winter wonderland greets me as I push my cart out of the store. My car is enveloped in white. I reach into the trunk to fetch the snow squeegee. It takes me quite a while to clear the snow off the roof, windshield and rear window.

It doesn’t take much snow to add enchantment. I ooh and aah as I try to navigate the sludge-like coating on the streets.

Driving up US 1, it is magical. The dark trees are iced with a generous coating of white. Treeless undergrowth reaches spiny fingers through the snow-covered fields.

Temperatures hover around 34℉. There is a thick layer of slush on the road and I can feel the drag on the tires. Fortunately, most drivers are navigating the conditions with caution. A few sling a viscous, salty mix at us as they try to whizz past. Today is not a whizzing kind of day.

The tires gouge deep ruts into the pristine driveway. A dense mass of frozen precipitation clings to the tires when I pull into the garage. By the time the groceries are inside, there is a river of melted snow coursing towards the garage door.

It isn’t long before the snow stops and presently, the trees shake off their white coating.