Not since the Blizzard of ’93—15” snowfall and down to minus 12 degrees F—have we seen such snow pile up in a single day. We were at Lanntair Farm then and recorded 16” and minus 20 degrees F. Hauling water to six horses for several days at that time convinced us to add supply lines and a water heater up at the main barn the following spring.

Beginning at 1am on January 15, 2024, East Tennessee experienced wide variation in accumulations, with 12 inches here at Blue Note Garden and deeper drifts around the many large trees in our woodland garden. It was a big, beautiful, powdery snow that fell slow and steady over the course of 24 hours and then hung around on the ground for a long time afterward with temperatures that never reached above freezing. (As of January 19, the 12 inches is still on the ground, and it is now snowing, again. Has Nature mistaken us for Buffalo?)

Prior notice has been excellent from the authorities; streets and dangerous intersections were salted ahead of time. People were able to get in and out of grocery stores with essentials. Closures were announced in good order, taking many vehicles off the roads and reducing accidents to a minimum. There were relatively few power interruptions. Options for online coursework and remotely working from home are much expanded from previous, pre-pandemic shutdowns during storms.

When she goes out early in the morning to attend to her toilette, Gracie, who has become addicted to beechnuts shed by our numerous beech trees, is horrified to find that all of them have been buried. It doesn’t take her long before she is industriously digging for them, and then not much longer for her to realize the situation is pretty hopeless. Oh, well, thank God for kibble indoors as backup!

The snow distorts scale and draws attention to delicately dusted features, like a tiny (buried) Buddha sheltered from the snow by a copper umbrella and a couple of emergent fern fronds—its own kind of temple:

A blanketing snow means we see a lot more birds come to the balcony feeders that we only mostly hear much of the time: big brown thrashers, juncos, redpolls. They join our much less shy, year-round, stalwart towhees, nuthatches, cardinals, titmice, Carolina wren, chickadee, many types of woodpeckers, many types of sparrows and finches.

Words don’t do justice to images:

It’s a good time of year to leave a few pieces of Christmas cheer in an entrance hallway to look upon whatever the weather brings to the outdoors.