For the past three days, the white stuff that fell from the sky on our farm continually changed. First it was ice pellets, then it was sleet, then it was large white snowflakes, then it was back to ice. The wind didn’t seem to change, though ~ it was always blowing. For the first time, John and I wondered if we really should buy snow fences for the wind tunnels that suddenly developed between our barns, around the garage, and just in front of the wood shed!

OK, I know that wind tunnels don’t just suddenly develop, but somehow, when the wind is biting cold and slamming ice crystals into your face, it certainly seems like you’ve never really paid attention before! And as much as that sounds like complaining, I was really glad to see winter’s arrival. 

    I love winter! When I step outside, the cold air tingles my nose and wakes me up. Those big white snowflakes just mesmerize me as they fall ~ I want to study each one to see the angles and edges of its design! Best of all, though, winter brings a quiet stillness and, somehow, greater details of those I love. 

Take Vega, for example. Watching Vega in the winter is an absolute joy because she is happiest when the snow is falling and big piles and drifts are laying on the ground. Some dogs we’ve had are also really happy when the snow is piled high, but they would jump for snowballs we threw in the air, or run around and suddenly turn left and run headlong into a snow drift. Vega loves to eat the snow ~ all the snow, all the time. As soon as the smallest pile appears, she takes a bite, jumps into the air like a goat, turns herself right around, and zooms off to find more snow, where all of this is repeated. I laugh and laugh just watching Vega in the snow. 

Steve and Dave, on the other hand, are so very happy doing nothing at all. We’ve enclosed the little barn for them, so there are no more big drafts coming through gaping holes in the walls, they have water in a heated water dish, and they’ve begun to camp out in one of the stalls that I’ve cleaned out and piled high with fresh straw. Whenever I walk through the door and say good morning, two little heads pop up over the wall of straw they’ve made around their bed, two little mouths yawn wide, and they slowly stretch, stand up, and make their way over to me to say hello. Then they wrap themselves around my legs, purring loudly as I pet them, and tripping me if I move before they’ve received just the right amount of attention. 

As I look around our little barn, I see one more stall that’s cleaned and ready for the next animal that needs sanctuary, whoever that will be.  We’re slowly re-claiming the spaces here ~ we have plans for one more large stall yet this winter, and we know just how to reconstruct all the stalls next Spring so everyone will have their safe space.  We’re slowly re-fencing the pastures ~ we were able to fence in the little pasture connected to the little barn before the snow came, and we know where the next batch of fencing needs to go. We have straw and hay, and we know where to get more. We’re almost ready. But until our new friends arrive, I’m going to laugh with Vega and make sure Steve and Dave have enough cuddles ~ and I’m going to thank the Universe for snow.