Thunder Snow

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            Sitting at my window watching snow hurling by. Not drifting gently. The wind is fierce. This is a snowstorm. Not a snowfall. The temperature has dropped all afternoon and hovered near freezing. The sky growing steelier and then the howling began. The great WHOOSH through the atmosphere that bent the stick figure trees and made them tremble. Up and down the scale the wind climbed. My north facing windows rattling with each blast. My two dogs uneasy and tucking into the back bedroom together. The cat not perturbed at all by this barometric show of strength. He’s curled up in his basket, observing the flakes as they race to the ground past his perch on the window seat. I run upstairs for a sweater. Turn the heat up a few degrees too. The house is old and the drafts know their way around the place.

            The snow has been falling for a few hours. The storm’s fury is escalating. I’m watching roads on TV being cleared, that instantly disappear again in a carpet of white behind the plow truck. I send up a prayer of thanks for the extra firewood we brought in and stacked beside the ancient stove. Time to pull down a few extra quilts from the upstairs closet and I chide myself for not buying a flannel nightgown. Silly me. The tea kettle has been on the stove top most of the day and into the night. Each cup of steaming warmth a reminder: You are inside. You are safe.  You are warm. I send up a prayer for those who are out in such a blizzard. That line from an old W. C. Fields movie comes to mind “This night ain’t fit for man nor beast.”

           

Thunder Snow

           

            The wind picks up force and I hear our younger dog let out a bark. As I’m going in to comfort and hush her, I hear it. Thunder. Deep rolling thunder is pounding the very air around our home. Thunder Snow! I had only ever heard of it but never actually heard it.

            It’s deep. Rolling and somber. I don’t see any flashes of lightning. Just the sound of thunder. Rumbling and grumbling like a giant Yeti out there in the maelstrom. I sit with the dogs and now the cat has joined us. “Fraidy cat!” I whisper into his neck as he nuzzles me and then curls up with our older dog. Pressed against her warm belly is where he is planning on staying for the duration. We listen for an hour. Intermittent reverberations that sound like a cosmic tom tom being played. Boom! Boom…. boom BOOM!!!!!!

            By midnight we are all tired of being scared and the storm has begun to move on to its next destination. Dragging its orchestra along with it. The extra blanket comes in handy. Both dogs and the cat find their way next to us in the big warm bed. I vow to invest in the Granny-est of flannel granny gowns and drift off to sleep.