The wind outside blew for two days. Swirling the snow, forming large drifts, changing the landscape hour by hour; the wind was a sculptor.
I’m not a fan of this sculptor.
The wind and continual snowfall rearranged the drifts so many times yesterday, I felt like the shoveling would never end. You can imagine my relief when I woke up this morning to see the wind had blown itself out. The snow had stopped falling and the sun was shining.
I was less relieved however, to see the waist high drifts of snow beautifully sparkling in front of my rabbit house door. So donning my sunglasses to prevent snow blindness, I bravely hoisted my shovel and ventured out into the drifts.
Imagine my horror when I discovered that the drifts in front of the rabbit house were minuscule compared to the vast sprawl of drift blocking the chicken pen.
I have taken a moment from my shoveling to share this post. Wish me luck as I head back outside!
ayla's allegories 