Before and After the Crack of Dawn on a Sunday Morning in December

6:30 a.m., before dawn cracks . . .

I wake to the sound of no sound.  A bit of a stretch, with a groan or two thrown in, and I roll out of bed.  Down in the kitchen to get my first caffeine fix of the day, I look out the window and here’s what good ol’ Mother Nature is playing at:

Before dawn cracks

Before dawn cracks

Not content with that fuzzy picture (camera focused on the wet glass), I opened the storm door (HUGE mistake!!), quickly snapped another shot, then snapped the doors shut!!

Through the open door...COLD!!!

Through the open door…COLD!!!

Fast-forward to 7:50 a.m., after dawn cracked . . .

Working on my second fix, I decide to look out the window again.  Every Sunday morning, like clockwork, the street is lined with cars.  I live three doors down from the Lutheran church and 8:00 a.m. is the time of their first service.  It is a large congregation and vehicles fill both sides of the streets east and west, north and south. Today, not so much:

C-r-r-r-a-c-k!!!

C-r-r-r-a-c-k!!!

 Note that the street light is still on.  Note also the flag across the street.  That wind is coming out of the north.  Out of Canada.  Land of frozen tundras. 

Yesterday I shoveled all around the house and out in front.  A layer of ice covered the snow but, luckily, it broke easily under the blaze orange shovel and I tossed the shards as far away as possible.  I’m still terrified, truly and actually TERRIFIED, of slipping on the ice. Having been there once, with pictures (but no t-shirt) to show for it, I have no desire to go there again! 

Snow. Freezing rain.  Ice.  Holiday travel plans unraveling all over the country. 

Mother Nature.  She is beautiful, but she is dangerous.

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