Snowed In

A big storm that hit the Plains really hard dumped a lot of snow on Northern New Mexico. Some say the most in twenty years. The Farmer’s Almanac predicted record snows. At Thanksgiving, when the temperatures were in the sixities and seventies Fahrenheit, I doubted a snowing winter was on the way.

But now that it is here, it’s a record. Highways, stores, libraries, and the post office are closed. Video stores are doing a great business, as are motels for those stranded in Santa Fe.

I counted cat food cans this morning, and made sure to know where flashlights and matches are. So far, only a few flickers of lights, so perhaps we’ll not lose power along the way. My own grocery stash is in good shape.

I’ve spent the last few days trying to keep paths clear for the cats and the occasional human. Last night, when I looked out my upstairs window around midnight, I saw snow continuing to fall. By this morning, the snow was up to a window that’s about two feet from the ground.

Even though this is very light, dry snow, the broom was no longer sufficient. And no snow shovel. So the squared shovel had to do.

First, I cleared kitty paths. When I came inside for a drink of water, I noticed Tiger coming from one of the condos. Snowed in, I guess. All cozy, though. I haven’t removed the snow hats because I know they are good insulation. I think, though, he’s been in the old cardboard box that I made originally. I refer to it now as slum housing, but they all seem to still adore it, so I haven’t removed it. Tiger has other options and he’s in good fat shape for winter, so I don’t see a need to interfere.

The usual six are holed up in the studio with occasional runs and leaps outside. Mama and Rimpoche are snug in straw and an insulated box in the kitty casita aka storage shed.

So far, the temperatures haven’t dipped much below 15 F, so again the main item to track is keeping unfrozen water available.

I spent the rest of the morning with my little shovel clearing part of the driveway so the cars can get in and out. First, though, I got stuck with my SUV and had to dig it out. I had hopes I could use it as a snow plow, but the compacted snow quickly turned to slippery slush-ice. Nothing to do but shovel.

As I write this, snow is falling again. A little while ago, it seemed the sun might peek through. Everywhere is white or gray-white, with the exception of dark branches and the brown walls of houses. Snow on the parapets looks like icing on a cake to me.

It’s a magic time with the usual hazards. I feel lucky to be cozied in with lively cats, some nice food, and yarn to knit. Tomorrow, I may take advantage of the part-shoveled driveway and venture out a little to cast my eye over the landscape. Maybe I’ll see if there is a snow shovel left to buy in all of Santa Fe. Next year, I’ll pay closer attention to the Farmer’s Almanac and do a little preparation for whatever weather it predicts.

From here in snowing Santa Fe, a New Year’s wish for all: May your hearts be filled with the magic of life in the year to come.

Snow and Solstice

The long-awaited snow arrived two days before Solstice. The kitties were surprised, even the ones who have been through several winters of snow. Like me, they seemed ecstatic by the white land and bounded about for short bits. The cold on their paws kept their glee to brief times outside, but when they did venture out, it was with energetic enthusiasm.

First thing, I swept some pathways to food, water, and loose dirt that they use for litter. Before the snow came, I made a makeshift roof over one of the favored litter places. Because our snow is very dry, it doesn’t take much effort to sweep it or to keep some areas clear of it. During the first day, it kept snowing, so I kept sweeping. For the smaller cats, it must seem that there is a mountain of snow piled up--an inviting tunnel to run through.

The biggest challenge with feral cats in the winter is to keep unfrozen water available. Housing and food are the easy parts. When the water freezes within ten minutes of putting it outside, it’s unlikely they will get to it to drink. Because the group here is tamer than the wildest, I can manage. I put some in the kitty casita where several were hanging out in a clump. When I see Tiger or Trixie show up, I put out both food that is unfrozen and warmish water in a warmed bowl without fear of their running away.

This year, they are all fat. And I know they have good places to hole up during the worst of the weather. Our storms usually don’t last more than a day. By the second day, we have sun, which means there are some warm spots and water melting.

I suppose the greatest challenge for them is what to do with their built-up energy. Hence the running and leaping outside, one over the top of the other, a snow leap-cat. Watching their antics, seeing their gorgeous winter coats against the snow, and feeling the freedom of their play--this is the finest Solstice celebration.

From me and from these fine felines, we wish for you all great freedom of play and leaps of celebration is the coming year!

Quiet

In the current configuration of cats here, there is no noticeable drama. I like these quiet periods, but I note I also feel nervous about what might come.

This is a lifelong habit. My father, in particular, had this style of thinking deeply imbedded. Perhaps it’s the tendency of capitalist farmers and ranchers. The weather might be excellent right now, but it could change any minute. And then future profits will tank. Or other horrible things will happen.

I carry this worry-mind on the upper back. It’s like a cloud that’s heavily seeded. In a recent I Ching consult, the oracle said, “The source of sorrows dissolves.” Now this is one future I would like to come to pass.

In the Nonviolent Communication model, we talk about the importance of regularly celebrating and mourning. In relationships, in friendships, in organizations, the attention to how our needs have been met and haven’t been met can have a profound effect on the aliveness of communication and connection. When we avoid paying attention to unmet needs (universal) or when we fail to express appreciation for how others did or said things that met our needs (universal), we are more likely to fall into confusion and resistance.

It’s my experience that this way of paying attention to sorrow leads to a deep peace and, therefore, a celebration. Perhaps a new word would help: celebrouning; mourbrating; mourcelaning. Maybe better to borrow a word.... I’m sure in many languages there is a word for this combination that points to engaging in the whole catastrophe of life fully.

As usual, the cats aren’t expressing concern about future changes. They are fat for winter, playful with toys and trees, and alert to where the sun makes warm spots on these winter days. They like their new cat tree which was generously donated by a friend, and they like the big box I left for them on the floor.

Zo-Zo is learning to open cabinet doors. Rossie’s right front paw has been bothering him, but seems to be healing on its own. Puffer Vasu sticks to her apartments and hisses when others come to check things out. Thumper continues to love everyone, including Puffer Vasu. Oh-Oh comes and goes on his own schedule; Roo loves the new brush I bought; Felicitito is quiet and alert and mostly outside; Rimpoche and Mamacita have surprisingly put on weight and seem to stick to staying on this property. Harley is here most of the time; Beemer comes and goes as do the other three Golden Girl Guys. Tiger and Trixie show up for food. Occasionally I see Tia, Spantada, and a visitor from across the street.

For now, it’s a quiet season. May worry rest in this quiet.