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When I woke up this morning, just before 7am, I could look out the window and feel the land outside my windows waiting. Outside was as still as a watercolor painting. Gray ground sprinkled ever so perfectly with white sketches of snow, from the night before,

In my heart I yearned for the stalling spring, but my silent surroundings are poised for the coming storm.

The weight of waiting is tangible, and I knew I needed to soon make some lists and prepare. Batten down the hatches, so to speak. I felt drawn to the weather channel, watching each city mentioned on the train the snow that was coming, and hearing all the prognostications of inches and winds and cancellations. All the east coast waiting, with yet another storm headed our way, and their way. Funny how some pretty white snow and wind can strongly effect so much change for so many people. Powerful winter nor’easter coming.

We went out to gather some supplies, and it was remarkable what occurs when you get in line with other people, fellow storm waiters, and you talk laughingly about getting ready for a whopper. It is a warm kinship of sorts, even with strangers, because we are all in this together. We all are beneath the same clouding sky. Be safe fellow Vermonters.

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