Heavy snow graced our area on Friday. I can say “graced” because I did not work and had the luxury of watching the snow fall with no need to drive in it. The snow began while I did some shopping on Friday afternoon and was sticking to the roads when I returned home between 3 and 4 p.m. It was a southern system, a low pressure system bearing white tidings from the Gulf of Mexico, and we northern Ohioans, who often see lake effect snow storms that inundate our northeasternmost counties, experienced the opposite, the heaviest snow falling in the mid-state and southerly counties. I measured 12 inches on my picnic table, and the National Weather Service radio had reported up to 20 inches possible in Carroll County, just to the south. On a trip to Cleveland on Sunday, I observed that snow was very light, maybe 2 inches deep, and I could see grass patches through the light snow cover. When we returned from our outing, to see the Baroque orchestra Apollo’s Fire, I was struck again by the height of the banks of snow I had shoveled from the driveway.

We have a metal roof, which means that the snow slides down the roof and off the edge. It can be quite entertaining to watch, and inside the garage the slowly slipping snow and falling chunks sound like a person walking on the roof and dropping things on it. Looking out the living room window at the front of the garage, you can see snow hanging over the edge of the metal garage roof, waiting for an unsuspecting wielder of snow shovel or a poor innocent cat to walk underneath.

This is the back yard. The stocking-cap-shaped pile of snow sits atop the sundial, which sits on a pedestal that is about 2 feet tall.

Beside the picnic table, you can see the path I shoveled across the patio on Friday night, partially filled in by snow that fell during the night.

This is the path to the goat house that I shoveled and tramped down on Saturday.

This is the back of the garage; most of the snow had slid off, making deep, dense piles. Chesapeake the cat was missing, and I worried that we would find him, stiff and frozen, sharp teeth peering through decomposing fur, when the piles melted, but he finally reappeared late Sunday.

Eutzly doesn’t like to get his hooves snowy, so he stays in my paths. He’s just finished eating sunflower seeds that had fallen from the bird feeders and is returning to the garage.

This is the view from the goat house on the hill. As densely laden as the pine trees appear and as picturesque as everything looks, it was more magical on Friday night, while the snow was falling. The snow fell so heavily that it coated every horitzontal surface, including the horizontal wires of the goat fence, making the fence look like it was made of white horizontal slats.I like the way these bushes by the goat house are loaded with snow.

This is looking up the hill to the goat house. Tristan, a small cat, sits in the path.

Tristan warms herself on the picnic table bench that I cleared for her comfort.

Starting the driveway, part two: I shoveled the driveway Friday night, working for about an hour to clear it. On Saturday the snow was just as deep and was heavier and denser. I shoveled in two separate one-hour shifts.

Much of the reluctant snow had slid off the roof on Saturday, but much remained.

Do you want me to go out in that snow again?