Snow Upon Snow

A pine tree standeth lonely

In the North on an upland bare;

It standeth whitely shrouded

With snow, and sleepeth there.

It dreameth of a Palm tree

Which far in the East alone,

In the mournful silence standeth

On its ridge of burning stone.

Heinrich Heine, German poet (1797–1856)

I know of at least one Northerner, with snow on his shoulders and cap, who is dreaming of Egypt's stately palms. What would our Egyptian friends think of donning long johns, snow pants, parka, boots, gloves and cap and striking out of the warmth of the house with cheerful enthusiasm to face the elements?

Our first snowstorm of the season started blowing during dinner last evening and dropped so much white stuff that the Time Traveller had to shovel a path to his car. Since then snow continued to accumulate upon itself until morning. We awoke to a quiet, white world blanketed in a foot-thick layer of frozen precipitation.

It's a beautiful sight but it has to be dealt with so right after breakfast, Dad and I headed out to clear the driveways and sidewalks of our elderly neighbours; Dad with a snowblower and me with a shovel. Three hours later we returned home for a warming cup of coffee and some Christmas treats, after which I collapsed into a sound sleep, as deep and as silent as the snowbanks we had created. Welcome wintertime to Ontario!