Apogee and Perigee and Snow

Last night, I learned, was the perigee moon--the time when the moon's orbit places it closest to earth and so it is bigger to our view. Here's what The Astrology Cafe says about it:

"A perigee Moon simply means that the orbit of the Moon around the Earth is in the shape of an ellipse (kinda like a slightly smashed circle), with one end (its perigee) being shorter in distance than the other end (its apogee).

So, the perigee Moon is at its closest point from the Earth, and it will appear bigger and brighter to us observers here on Earth."

Unfortunately we were cloud-covered and waiting for snow to arrive. It was cold too, about 11 degrees. So we missed this not-so-common astrological sighting. I hope some of you were able to see it.

Today the snow arrived and we have about two inches and counting. We were supposed to get a "dusting." If this is dust, I'd hate to see the weatherman's house. So we'll have an inside day, cleaning and sorting the big bookshelf, a job that sorely needs doing.

Winter of course is only halfway over or maybe not even that. Spring is March 21, which is 7 weeks away. So we might as well enjoy the rest of this season of rest. When Spring comes we will be busy planting, cleaning gardens, getting tools in shape and all the other work of preparing for summer. In summer we will be running hard to keep up with the grass and weeds; we'll be canning and putting food away. When Fall comes we'll be hurrying to get in firewood, putting the gardens to bed and putting up whatever food still needs to be stored. But winter? All we need to do is stay warm, dream by the fire, and shovel snow occasionally. So enjoy the rest! We'll need to be ready to go come spring.

Here's a poem to share with you on this cold snowy day:

Dust of Snow
Robert Frost

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.

And another, for those who need a bit of hope at this time of year:

The Darkling Thrush
by Thomas Hardy

I leant upon a coppice gate
When Frost was spectre-gray,
And Winter's dregs made desolate
The weakening eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
Like strings of broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
Had sought their household fires.

The land's sharp features seemed to be
The Century's corpse outleant,
His crypt the cloudy canopy,
The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
Seemed fervourless as I.

At once a voice arose among
The bleak twigs overhead
In a full-hearted evensong
Of joy illimited;
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,
In blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
Upon the growing gloom.

So little cause for carolings
Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
And I was unaware.

Spellchecker thinks Thomas Hardy can't spell :-)