On this cold morning, I see tiny sparkles in the air as I look in the general direction of the sun. I don’t see them in other directions. They could not be falling snowflakes or wind-raised snow, for the wind is calm and the sky clear. They are too small to catch or photograph, and they refuse to land on my glove. They glisten for flashing moments, turning their shiny sides, reflecting the sun like small fishes in a great ocean.The tops of bare trees are whiter this morning, as if they have caught some elusive stardust. They sparkle in quiet sunlight with varying patterns that seem to depend on where I stand to look at them.
“It was minus forty-one when I left the house,” says a man in town. My deck thermometer read minus twenty-nine. The airport reports a low of minus thirty-six last night, one degree below the previous record for this date. The all-time record low still stands at minus fifty-five on January 6, 1909.
Ice is creeping under my door where a small leak in the seal allows outside air in. The small advancing glacier is a measure of cooling outside. Right now my inside thermometer reads 72, and the baseboard heating water is keeping my air 101 degrees warmer than outside.
Most people have highlights to recall from their travels. You, Sharon, have all the lows to remember. This may likely be your lowest.
ReplyDeleteMeanwhile, I almost hate to say this, Gail and I went motorcycling today. At 79 degrees, it was even too warm for me to wear my jacket.
Those chilly temps are memories from my past, Sharon, not at all unhappy either. Growing up on Highway 71 somewhat south of IF,I experienced similar very cold days, and yet I could not stay inside. So out to experience the cold I went. How great to see you, too, don't let the low temps lock you inside.
ReplyDeleteVoyager Carol
The thermometer photos would make a nice sequence. The numbers look so odd once they get below zero.... Those little flashes of light, Sharon? It's the air, freezing. Liz
ReplyDeleteI love that "small advancing glacier"! The photo of your floor is one of my favorites it looks like planet earth turned blue from cold... and the white spaceship "tomorrow" is flying in for a landing. Excitement at ground level... I wonder if it was 41 below on your deck would your thermometer break or just freeze solid... are you going to miss all this? Rick says you "deserve every ice~cube" it's what you went for! (hee hee) We miss you, please come in out of the cold soon (in our door!!)
ReplyDeleteOh Kathabela, you see things so poetically. Where you saw the earth turning blue, i thought, "Oh that carpet has to go." On second thought, it must be needed as insulation from the very frozen earth below.
ReplyDeleteReading the posts from everyone has been like reading poetry, and Sharon's work, of course, is wonderful. This blog has been/is a lovely and lyrical experience. We might need to send Sharon off again, on another adventure, so we can write to and about her. But a shorter one, next time, as we miss her.
Yes Steven, I may be low in the lowerarchy of cold. From here it could be all uphill. No matter, these epiphanies never last.
ReplyDeleteYes, Carol, I agree that staying inside is missing out. So many new and wondrous things to see every day.
Kathabela, Liz is right. You see even my carpet poetically.
Rick, I have not seen an ice cube yet, not outside. Maybe you could have one drop-shipped from Minneapolis.
Liz, It’s good to see you back from the desert, where I think it was cold. The sand that sometimes blows there is like loose snow in open fields and even dunes up to look the same, except for color.
Where would you like to send me off to? Perhaps to Trader Joes, where my pictures of scratches in the floor could send Kathabela into poetic tailspins.
It was cold. I slept in my down vest the first night, after that just in sweats (there was a little heater in the cabin, but not in the outhouse). We had the traditional bonfire on New Years Eve and had the sensation of freezing on the backside while toasting on the front. For I while I rotated. The dunes in 1000 Palm Canyon are moving slowly. Each year they cover a bit more of the oasis. There was wind, but no blowing sand. I had a good trip out there, drove through an area with many cottonwoods. We made a quick trip to Joshua Tree, kind of like taking a quick trip to Mars, it is so different. Where would I send you? Don't know, someplace new to you, so we could follow as you constructed a system for understanding your new surroundings. It has been a pleasure following as you learn about cold. The latest "ice fog" lesson was informative, and oh, those lovely ice covered trees. We are looking forward to your return home, and really don't want you to be away. Maybe we can find new places in or around LA to explore and you can write about them. Michael and I took a fine walk in the Arroyo, and it bears another visit. So much to do. Liz
ReplyDeleteYes there are many fine explorations waiting in the LA area, and the rest of winter is a good time to see the ones that are too hot in summer, except for hikers who get up at five in the morning.
ReplyDeleteas you do in the summer. I can do 5:30. Let's go!
ReplyDeleteI guess I said it wrong. Whereas, in summer we had to start early to avoid the heat, in winter even a midday riser like a few we know could join in the fun.
ReplyDeleteGotcha.
ReplyDeleteThe shot under the door is one of the most creative pictures I have ever seen because it could be so many other things. This may be one of the top ten pictures you have ever shot, what do you think ?
ReplyDelete