My old home, Gray Maine. I spent almost 30 years in Maine, half of them in Gray. Winters were brutal.
That hump is my Saturn station wagon. The orange blob in the door is my husband, who had to dig the door open and then is inside scrambling to find the keys. We’d been in Florida for two weeks.
Long icicle from a garage roof, Congregational Church in the background. The winter light at dusk is like that, bluish.
Icicles from the cabin I’d lived in for 14 years.
The cabin in spring. In height of winter, there would be massive drifts on either side of the shoveled path
During a snowstorm the wind-driven snow was blown Into my office under the door.