Twilight fell with the snow clouds gathering and a slight scattering of flakes.

The birds all left early for secure nighttime accommodation. Just underneath their feeders, and slightly to the right the snow has drifted about two feet deep, and is frozen solid. Underneath it lies the rhubarb plant. Hopefully its sweet and stubby red roots are beginning to push underground. The ground is still frozen where the ice and snow resist the few hours of sunshine we are getting here in the Similkameen.

Tonight, in Blogland, I read about someone's first pick of spring rhubarb simmering on the stove.

It nigh on sent me out with the pick-axe to clear the snow and ice away, and let the scarlet rhubarb stubs reach for the sunlight and the mild, clear daytime air. I know that the Lenten roses are in the same predicament, and long to open their petals to the sky.

There are promising puddles in the afternoon, as the sun warms the earth and the air, but at night the frost comes again, and in the morning there are small skating rinks all around the yard. If I could return to the days when I was small and bob skates were still an excitement to me, I could have a jolly time out on these little patches, red scarf trailing and rosy cheeks and ears.....

We have the occasional fiery sunrise, and for a little while each day there are small bits of bright blue in the sky, but on the whole the clouds hold sway.








A few days ago, as I rose in the morning, I caught a glimpse of the moon, just slipping away in the west, all glorious and glowing and in a marvelous shimmer. I wished for a camera that could capture its beauty.



We are fortunate in this valley, where the hills protect us from great extremes of weather, and sometimes the winters are open and mild. The year we left the farm and went to live by the river we planted potatoes on the 4th of March...

I have a few packages of rhubarb left in the freezer, - we will have to be content with a bit of last year's fruit, with some nice creamy custard....or maybe a pie!

P.S. Overnight Winter crept back softly, but with some determination, and we woke to this February fairyland.