Sea Change

(Sea change:  drastic transformation.)

All was calm in the dark o' morn, until it wasn't.  Just before daylight, the wind hit the house like a freight train, howling and battering at the windows like a live thing bent on destruction.  When Michael and I went out later, a stinging rain began as if it had been lying in ambush, and then was joined by hail like shotgun pellets.  Michael made a few quick pit stops, finished his business, and ran, did not walk, back to the house.  Knowing I was meeting Arden and Camille later for lunch, it seemed only kind to light a fire early for the house kids.  Yeah, well.  Stove was doing his best, but the wind was so strong it was pushing smoke down out of the vents, not letting it up the chimney and filling the room.  It seemed like an exercise in futility to light a fire for heat and then opening the front door.  It didn't take too long for Stove to take control, thank goodness.

By noon when we ladies met, there was a smattering of snow hitting the windshield.  The restaurant was warm, the company was warmer, and we enjoyed a leisurely lunch.  We watched the snow come down harder, but in big, soft, fluffy flakes.  It was as if we were seeing a real-life snow globe.

By the time I got home, there was maybe an inch of white on the deck, and I was very glad I'd banked the fire before leaving.  Michael didn't need any urging to go for another walk, but sure didn't dawdle.  With his thick, thick fur, all he had to do was give a good shake to rid himself of the flakes.  Me, I had to change jackets.

As fast as the storm had blown in, it was gone.  It looks pretty good this morning.  Of course, I said that yesterday, too.