Gathering a hot cuppa, my cuddle sack and trusty little electric heater, I sat all toasty warm and comfy in my easy chair in front of the slider door. The wind howled outside with wild abandon as an occasional full-tongued whistle sounded from an undetermined crack somewhere in the house. At times it gave the building a mighty shove, as if throwing a temper tantrum, demanding to be let in or else.
The wind gusts were absolutely amazing! Tiny song birds at the feeders, were being tossed about as they attempted to have their morning meal. They hurriedly grabbed beak fulls of seeds in between bouts before once again being buffeted around like so many tiny leaves.
Yet by the time daylight broke, periods of calm were interspersed with the gusts. And it was then that I was treated to a most delightful show.
As the curtain went up on the first act, all was peaceful with just the lightest snow dusting silently to the ground, then all of a sudden the Ballet of the Winds began with gusto. Ethereal forms appeared fleetingly in the flying snow like something out of the ghostly tale of Ebenezer Scrooge, performing an arabesque here, a few dazzling spins there, first a soloist or two, and then the entire company would join in, dancing and twirling away on point. To the left and to the right they careened, doubling back and changing direction in the blink of an eye.
At times they would pass right through the screen porch, just inches from my face, on the other side of the slider door. But my very favorite was when, at the winds mightiest peak, a figure would suddenly pause right in front of the porch, tall and phantom-like in its shroud of flying snow, as if checking to see if I was enjoying the ballet before continuing on again.
I was thus entertained for quite some time before the wind began to lose some of its punch and all the magnificent toe dancers came off point at last and went on to something else. I blew a kiss in return for the fantastic gift of the performance I had just witnessed.