Firewood delivered by Joel is brought into barn, the rest covered with tarps. Sunflower seed is poured into three hanging feeders and the tray box in the hands of the large St Francis, the bird feeder we mind for Ben and Mary, edging the corner of the farmhouse sorely needing paint. Storm windows are lowered into place. The ground tightens into itself and will not budge for a season s while.
Wool hats over ears.
Listen carefully to me, and you will have good things to eat and rich food to enjoy. Snowmaking machines stand poised at brown ski-trail edges and give off what frozen crystal they can now that temperatures burrow below freezing and no snow lay yet. Up at the brook water flows over stones that crust lightly with slick clear skim with each splash jumping from the tumble down. Hosmer Pond is closed tight. Loose-fitting windows on second floor of the old cape begin to ice over as moisture sneaks thru weathered frames these cold nights.