20 Feb
All through the night, icy winds blew. Snow was cast to the ground then whisked back into the air; gales stripped the world of its warmth. Inside the house, lights flickered as forces of nature riotously clashed outside.
Sometime around dawn, the riot stopped. The wind blew itself away, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. The morning sun shone brightly on the pebbly ice and snow covered landscape. In the chaos of nature a beautiful scene was created.
20 Feb
Poor Ting. The rabbit house is being battered by yet another blizzard. So far the storm has consisted of high winds, rather than large quantities of snow. Ting, who did not realize just how windy it was, ran out of the rabbit house, where he lives, and straight into the wind. He was then lovingly escorted back to the warmth and safety of the rabbit house. After this tomfoolery, Ting decided it was wiser to sit in a pile of hay directly under the heat lamp, than to venture outside in a blizzard.
17 Feb
I love the fresh fallen snow. So pristine, soft and beautiful; all I want to do is run outside and make snow angels. Ting feels much the same way. Although he doesn’t know how to make snow angels, he does like to romp beside me while I make them. Sadly as the sun returns, the snow becomes slushy, then muddy and neither one of us wants to be outside.
Ting, an outdoor cat, has taken to climbing the office window screen to observe the activities within the house. I can almost hear him ask, “Can I come in to play, if you aren’t going to come out today?”
4 Feb
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 