Between the Snows: In the Bleak Midwinter

We'd had a very pretty little snow on Sunday into Monday. Tuesday was clear, as the eastern part of the U.S. readied itself for another big storm on Wednesday. So my husband and I used Tuesday to get out, purchase a few groceries (including a very lovely beef roast), fiddle around treasure hunting at the local dollar store, drop off the last of our library books, and grab a bite to eat of food we did not have to cook ourselves. All fine endeavors, to be sure.

On our way home, we stopped to hike at the Barrens, and we got in about a three-miler, on the closed road next to the shooting range. There was still snow on the ground from the Sunday/Monday storm, but the path was pretty clear for walking, as you can see.

This was the last stop on our list, our final errand before home. We were starting to feel that happy and snug feeling you get, before the storm begins: of having done all of the good prep stuff, having spoiled yourself a bit, and having gotten some groceries (including those easy-peasy cinnamon rolls) in the larder before it hits.

My personal opinion is also this: how you feel about winter storms depends on whether you have to go anywhere (we didn't), and who you are planning to get snowed-in with! As for myself, I am planning to be snowed in with my loving husband (and believe you me, we are accustomed to enjoying MANY fine amusements together) and a very nice roast! It's all fun and games, as long as the power stays on!, so says my husband.

Anyway, I was thinking all of these thoughts, as we walked back up the road to the car, and then on to home: how winter can seem or feel or look so barren sometimes (especially here, pun intended!), and yet in other ways be so snug and almost joyful, especially during the times of the drawing in.

This scene reminded me of the quote "In the Bleak Midwinter," and though I know it is typically used as a Christmas carol, I want it to be my soundtrack song here. This version is by Jamie Cullum.