Snow Day Ditherings

The BIG snow storm ended during the night, so this day is brilliant and cold, the blinding sunlight glimmering off the mounds of fresh, clean snow that looks like tiny diamonds have been sprinkled by some playful hand.  There have been birds this morning--two different kinds of woodpecker, a female Cardinal, some tiny finches, and a tufted titmouse. They have formed an unconscious partnership:  the woodpeckers land on the narrow ledge of the feeder and help themselves while raining seed down to the ground where the little birds snatch it.  

There has been a larger beast, too--a raccoon, maybe, or a groundhog.  Its messy footprints track along the side of the house to the leftover hulls of birdseed, then across the patio and up the hill into the woods.  I can't tell because the footprints are submerged and blurred.  It looks like a chubby belly was dragging along.  Though the wind has calmed, occasional large puffs of snow drop from the trees--usually signaling the presence of a bird or scampering squirrel.

This is the second of two snow days.  It is feeling decadent to be curled up in my fleece robe with hot coffee mug in hand while I watch nature through the rear windows.  Of course, I have work projects, too, so it isn't exactly vacation.  And with technology, I do not escape the phone, e-mail, and texts.  Still, it is nice to be here in a rural area not needing to worry about getting around in city traffic, public transportation, or skidding on icy sidewalks.  

Yesterday, we cancelled church.  It is the third time in my three winters here.  When I first arrived, I couldn't imagine doing that.  Ever. Well, maybe if the furnace shut down in sub-zero weather.  I hate to see those red doors closed, even if just two or three people venture out.  But I have learned a few things--all of which have to do with physical safety, and, I hope, loving care: 

• Out here in the "driftless" region where the glaciers did not level the landscape, the geography and geology must be considered.  Our founders chose to build our historic 1850 church on the second of three levels of hills after carving its limestone out of a cliff.  The angles of the streets getting to the church are steep, as are the sidewalks from the street parking (no lot).  Even if the  main roads are clear, there's no assurance of actually reaching the church either by car or on foot.  Though most folk have AWD, the walk from where they might park is treacherous.
• Add to that, the fact that a large portion of the congregation lives in a resort area several miles from town.  It is quite lovely with its winding, hilly roads, and it's long deep driveways. Enough said.
• My people are hardy.  Last year, they came to church in good numbers despite six weeks of frozen pipes that left the church without water--and bathrooms.  But we have a large cadre of folk with canes, walkers, and artificial joints!
• First responders appreciate people staying off the roads and not causing additional hazards by sliding off the roads.
• Finally, there is no rectory beside the church.  I live only a mile or so away not far from the main road that is generally kept clear.  Getting the short way to that road, however, is the trick. I am at the bottom of the list for the plowing service.  Last night the truck made its way up the driveway just as the 10 pm news began.  Earlier than usual.  The plow, I mean.

Ah, I wonder if I'm rationalizing.  I am jealous of colleagues' FaceBook posts about their small but mighty gatherings yesterday.  Unexpected blessings of community they shared.  Their refusal to be beaten by a storm--even those a bit east of us for whom it was classified as a blizzard rather than just a winter storm.  I used to be like that!  I could overcome most anything!  I recall a particularly frigid winter when my car wouldn't start, walking a couple of miles in the wind to catch a bus to a train and then to the subway--about 3 hours each way, getting to my desk by about 10 and staying until 4 (and feeling guilty).

Or, there was the time my then husband and I had an accident on the way to work.  Sliding across and patch of black ice into a light post.   After going to the emergency room for x-rays of my knees and my forehead that crashed into and shattered the windshield, I caught a bus to go across town to the medical building where I worked.  I was greeted by bosses who were astonished that I would show up after such an ordeal.  

Was I being responsible?  Or did I have an exaggerated sense of the necessity of my being there?   Or, maybe it was just an overblown guilt complex.  I don't know, but this has always been part of my make up and plays havoc with my clergy self-care! 
  
Perhaps there is a gift in these snow days and watching my
cat curled up in the sunlight in my favorite chair with no worries beyond a sufficient stock of catfood!