I wish there was a way to take a picture of the wind to share with you. You just can’t quite feel the biting way it takes your breath away with a picture. It has been ferocious ever since the snow stopped falling yesterday afternoon. All that fresh powder is being whipped around horizontally (and vertically, and in circles). It ends up piling up in inconvenient places like Cool Whip. Super heavy Cool Whip that only the pup eats.
Our little beach area is the worst. The wind gets started on the far side of the lake and howls its way down the lake scraping up all the snow off the ice and delivering it to Tuscarora. The plow piles and boat house turn the parking lot into a wind tunnel. The ground is scoured clean down to the gravel in the middle. To the sides the snow drifts into dunes worthy of the Sahara.
Cabin 2 with it’s beautiful lake view gets a face full of snow this time of year. The drifts are as tall as the front steps. Behind it there is a pile as tall as the roof way back there in the woods.
It is hard to tell that there are canoes out in the canoe yard, but they are there. And the view from the outfitting office is, well, frosted with whipped cream.