This morning is one of those absolutely gorgeous clear blue sky days when you just want to bow down before the sun in awe of its brilliance. After yesterday's storm, we feel exhilarated - maybe even a little inspired. 
    That was a dark place we were in yesterday. I was getting reports on the scanner that whiteouts on the highways were causing traffic delays and accidents - mostly fender-benders - but emergency teams and wreckers were having a hard time keeping up because, like everyone else, they couldn't see worth a darn, either.
     Diane Rossi told us that although she wisely decided not to go to Shelburne to see Bill yesterday, she did go to do some errands in Danville and on the way back - in West Danville - the wind and snow was blowing so hard she couldn't see a thing and had to stop until there was a lull, all the time hoping nobody came up behind her and rear-ended her. Fortunately, she was able to proceed ok, but it was tough going.
     Jamie had a similar experience on the stretch by Point Comfort. He said there was a complete white-out and he couldn't tell the road from the white of the pond and had to stop to wait for the wind to let up enough for him to see. He said traffic was slow, bumper to bumper. With everyone in the same white no-man's land, drivers were being extra careful.
     We worried about Marie coming home after dark. She was working at the Concord (VT) Health Center yesterday and didn't get out from work until 7 o'clock. She finally made it home ok, but said she was traveling "in a caravan" with everyone going very slowly, just following the car ahead. I was wondering if people would even be able to find their turns off the main highway. Without being able to see more than the car ahead of you, how would you know where you were? It's bad enough in daylight, but when it's dark, too?
     We know a little about darkness. We lost our power last night, I think just a little after 7 o'clock. We usually are prepared better when there's a good possibility we'll lose power. We usually keep a flashlight close by, but we were blissfully watching the news and had just mentioned that the lights hadn't even blinked all evening - and even then didn't think that we might be on borrowed time.
     When the power went out, it was so dark, neither of us could believe it. Usually there's a moon or some glimmer coming from somewhere, but last night - nothing. Fred suggested we wait for our eyes to adjust to the darkness. We sat quietly, waiting, and could hear the wind roaring outside. After a few minutes, we agreed there was no "adjustment" going on, we were enveloped in total darkness. 
     It's funny how you lose your sense of direction when you cannot see anything at all. I remember getting lost in the fog once years ago when deer hunting in an area I knew like the back of my hand. But that day, everything was white, and the only direction finder I had was that the ground slanted downward, and I knew that if I continued in a downward direction I'd come to a road. But I didn't figure that out until I'd gone in a complete circle - doubling back onto my own tracks in the snow.
    The best we could do last night was go by voice. I talked and Fred got his bearing from knowing where I was - in my chair by the windows. At first, he went too far left and ended up in the dining area - but then, with me talking and listening to him, he found familiar  pieces of furniture and was able to get to the flashlight in the kitchen. Fortunately, it was where it always is kept. I'm not sure what we would have done if one of us had forgotten to put that flashlight back on the shelf where it's supposed to be. It would have been hard to remember where other flashlights might be or where the nearest matches were. As it was, we soon had oil lamps going and Fred called the power company to report the outage and then got the wood stove going, knowing we were doubtless in for a long haul without power. The power company said power was out throughout Cabot and Walden - and lots of other places. 
     We went to bed early and were sound asleep when it came back on at about 9:45 p.m. That was unbelievable! We pretty much expected to be without power for a day or so, at least.
     This morning, Fred was out early blowing away the hard-packed snow from the driveway. I measured seven inches and cleared off the deck - that was heavy to shovel! When we finished, Fred told me a couple of big spruce trees had come down on Jamie and Marie's driveway, and later we got an email from Jamie saying they had to chainsaw their way out this morning. This isn't the first time a tree has fallen across their driveway this winter, so they are old hands at the cleaning up process. Jamie says all of this is just more reasons he's loving Winter 2019.
     And that's the story from here this morning - it's cold, only 9F, and there's still a pretty good breeze out of the northeast, but the sun is shining and spring is on its way, creeping slowly but surely here, and that gives us joy.