Still Falling, Hours On

Our neighbor warned us.  “We’re gonna get six inches of snow.”  A simple thing like a weather forecast was not going to deter my wife from heading to the city to see the lecture she’d fixed upon and the friend’s she’d planned to meet for dinner.  It was just starting to fall when I dropped her off at the Trailways bus station on Main Street.  I knew this would be the last chance I’d have for a while to get a bike ride in, out on the rail trail.  Once the deep snow fell, I wouldn’t be able to get any traction.  So, once I got back home, I suited up and headed out. 

This patch of land the trail cuts through to the north or south is gorgeous any time of year as I’ve been documenting.  In the middle of a snow fall was especially atmospheric.  I got all the way up to the Walkill River crossing and considered the fractured, frozen surface of the river, that reached out from the main stone support down below. There was nearly an inch of powder on the ground now.  Just the sort of snow that would be a dream to ski through. 

Returning I came through Huguenot Street as I had the last time, I came this way.  I noticed a woman shoveling even though it was still early in the fall and resolved to do the same when I got home as well.  As much for exercise as anything else, I picked up a shovel and got to work, clearing off the air around our garage and two tire tracks up the hill.  This was covered again in no time. 

The girls and I were left home and decided we’d find a place to eat ASAP.  I called and the lovely little Japanese place they have up there in Rosendale, Soy, was open.   It was a slow ride up, but I felt reasonably safe in a four-wheel drive, SUV.  We got there on the early side, at 4:30PM and walking past a young lad, presumably the proprietor’s son, doing homework, we settled in at the table near the rear, kept our coats on and ordered half the menu. 

Back home we set to work on a puzzle their brother had given us of puzzle with a scene from the Song Dynasty masterpiece: “Along the River During the Qing Ming Festival.”   “Only” nine-hundred pieces, it proved much harder than the 1500-piece puzzle we did last month as that puzzle had provided locational lettering on the back of pieces.  We built a fire, played songs, you-get-three, she-gets-three, I-get-three, and had a good wintery evening. 

The Mrs. wrote to inform that no, she wouldn’t be on the 9:00PM bus but rather would be taking the 10:00PM.   The driver showed up late, she texted me.  Perhaps it was the snow.  Then, about thirty minutes after their delayed departure she wrote to say that the bus had broken down.  This was not good news at all.  The snow was still falling, hours on: “Do you want me to come meet you?”  Apparently, another bus was on the way and it wasn’t till 1:20AM or so that she was home.  I took hold of sleep with both of my hands, the moment we got back home.

Saturday, 01/18/20