I woke up to rime across the byway, across the driveway and nipping at the front porch. Rime always has an elevation line. This morning I was it.
Soon I was engulfed and the rime headed into the garden and down the mountain. Rime, for those who may not know, is frozen fog that sticks to any and every surface and begins to pile up in a thick white frosting.
It had not snowed in the night. The ground was still bare. Anything standing upright in the fog began to turn white.
The plan for the first real snow of the season was still in the works for later in the day. My snow shovel was next door. That might come in handy. I went to fetch it and grabbed a spaghetti squash while I was there.
I took a brief tour of the ridge top garden. Mercy, there are a lot of sticks and big limbs down. That will have to wait for a warmer day.
Hello chimney. It has been a popular family item of late. A recent comment on a photo I posted got me thinking. Chop down all the trees in the house. Re-stack the stone foundation. Build a deck on that and start using the fireplace again. Now that would get some attention along the scenic byway.
I am afraid that will need to be filed under grandiose ideas that are unlikely to ever come to pass.
I can only handle so much rime at 22 degrees before it is time to go inside. I didn't want my squash to freeze.
Hello Uncle Ernie. It's cold out there.
Then it began to actually snow.
The already frozen ground instantly turned white.
Then it stopped. Is that all I get? Unless something changes in the night, this big winter storm is going to go down as a wimp. I have a feeling it will be tracking south and east. Maybe I won't need my shovel. I'll still eat my squash.