In those temperatures the snow crunches and groans loudly when you walk or drive on it. It's that loud, complaining sound that only very frigid snow makes underfoot.
The snow from the latest storm was cold and dry but it stuck to the trees in a way that looks like whipped cream carefully swirled on the branches.
It looks so white and so creamy and so artfully dolloped on everything.
The big spruces have dots of cream on the tips of their branches, and the denser dwarf Alberta spruces are positively coated.
It kind of looks like the soft serve machine at Dairy Queen malfunctioned.
There were tracks all around. I wonder how the wildlife stays warm on nights when the temperatures are below zero.
All of this pretty ice cream is being washed away today in warm rain. Tomorrow we go back to very frigid weather. I can't keep up with the wild swings.
The new year has started not just with crazy weather, but with an unhappy development here. The heart shaped stone in my dry stacked wall has fallen out.
It was there on New Year's Eve. I know because our guests that night admired it and I told them all about building a stone wall this summer with no skill and sore knees.
On New Year's Day it was lying on the pavers. Just plopped out.
Then the snow came, and I had not yet picked it up or done anything with it, so my heart is now lying on the ground under the snow, freezing.
I had used stone glue to fix it upright in the wobbly wall, but the wild weather -- the freezing and thawing and refreezing -- used its frigid black arts to expel my stone heart and then bury it.
This is just too weird.
With the bitter weather and the oddly unsettling sight of that hole in the rock wall, it is a good time to stay inside. Which I may do for the rest of the winter.