The Snow

The grey, grey view has disappeared and the world is sparkling white.  Much as I dread driving in snowy conditions, I love the serenity and quiet beauty of a fresh snowfall! The imagery in this favourite poem by Emily Dickenson captures it exactly.

The quilt images are from the work of Paula Nadelstern.  I studied with her for a week at Quilting by the Lake and made three huge snowflakes… a proud accomplishment because the designing and piecing is not for the faint of heart.

Tomorrow I may try to start another. This piece needs to be finished!  You can see her work in the preview of her book on… look inside and turn the pages.  Besides gorgeous close-ups, you will also find references to Bentley and the first attempt to photograph the cellular structure of snow.  And her website has the kaleidoscope quilts!

Then go out and play in the snow.  This is Motley’s first winter.  He is amused and bemused, sinking into the snow, leaping into drifts, and trying to fetch the snowballs that disappear no matter how hard he chases them.

The Snow by Emily Dickenson

It sifts from leaden sieves,
It powders all the wood,
It fills with alabaster wool
The wrinkles of the road.

It makes an even face
Of mountain and of plain, —
Unbroken forehead from the east
Unto the east again.

It reaches to the fence,
It wraps it, rail by rail,
Till it is lost in fleeces;
It flings a crystal veil

On stump and stack and stem, —
The summer’s empty room,
Acres of seams where harvests were,
Recordless, but for them.

It ruffles wrists of posts,
As ankles of a queen, —
Then stills its artisans like ghosts,
Denying they have been.

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