The snows have been arriving in waves, long rolling breakers of foam, blurring the line between earth and sky. White beasts lumber across the garden where a row of bushes had been. Trees sway and tinkle under their weight of crystal chandeliers. The forecast calls for high winds that will bring down branches and knock out power. But there’s something exhilarating about being snowbound — stranded in uncharted territory that’s both beautiful and terrifying. Waking up the other morning to a landscape magically transformed, I thought of this poem by the prolific and versatile American poet William Jay Smith whom I was privileged to meet in his later years.
Winter Morning
by William Jay Smith
All night the wind swept over the house
And through our dream
Swirling the snow up through the pines,
Ruffling the white, ice-capped clapboards,
Rattling the windows,
Rustling around and below our bed
So that we rode
Over wild water
In a white ship breasting the waves.
We rode through the night
On green, marbled
Water, and, half-waking, watched
The white, eroded peaks of icebergs
Sail past our windows;
Rode out the night in that north country,
And awoke, the house buried in snow,
Perched on a
Chill promontory, a
Giant’s tooth
In the mouth of the cold valley,
Its white tongue looped frozen around us,
The trunks of tall birches
Revealing the rib cage of a whale
Stranded by a still stream;
And saw, through the motionless baleen of their branches,
As if through time,
Light that shone
On a landscape of ivory,
A harbor of bone.
Lovely!!
Thanks!
What he said! (Stephen Gyllenhaal)
Beautiful post and poem. Thanks for showing us the loveliness.
Thank you, Phyllis!
Thank you, Patty.
Barry AWOTC
I still get excited waking up to a blanket of snow. But that excitement wanes
after a few days.
I’m surprised you can see it from the couch!
I think that winter is definitely the most beautiful season in the Berkshires. But this one with its howling winds, ice covered ground, and bitter cold has really tested me. I’m conceding to it and heading to Florida, though that’s a place that has a chilling effect of a different kind.
It’s been pretty brutal — but, yes, beautiful, too.
Love this. I know many folks are ready for springtime by now and I understand. But I sure appreciate having a winter and could never live anywhere without it.
Susan’s comment above re Florida is so interesting. I know many who live there but I would never want to. I understand “a chilling effect of a different kind”. But winters get very hard for many and they head south. I will remain in Maine.
I’m with you, Cheryl.
This reminds me of the winters of childhood, when it seemed like the snow was forever as deep as these drifts. Was it really that different then, in Pennsylvania in the 60s? Or is it just the altered memories that themselves drift with time?
It was so deep and stayed so cold you could build an enormous snow fort with tunnels that lasted for weeks.
Thanks for this, Liza! I love that peaceful, muffled silence in a snowstorm. Snowstorms in our childhood were a great event, not only because we could play in the snow, but also because they meant a day off from school! I regret that Zoom may have robbed children of those surprise
holidays.
I love that muffled silence, too, Dirk. Thanks for writing!
Quite beautiful…I read it twice. It’s been awhile since I’ve lived in snow, but this did bring back memories of delightful snow days.
Thank you, Carole — always so nice to hear from you.