The sides of the road were covered with fresh snow. Clumps clung to the branches of the scrub pine trees. It was a spring snow, damp, thick and heavy; the sort that doesn't stick around for long. The pile on top of the old osprey's nest resembled a giant white bowler and the houses along the highway looked like cliched paintings bought in the tourist art galleries in Hyannis.

These are the paintings of Cape Cod in the Winter, with heavy layers of white zinc oxide oil paint. The sky above was a clear post-snow storm light blue and the pond in front of the house was a colder darker blue.

This was not the typical summer trip to the Cape, with anticipation of six days of laying on the beach, listening to the waves, soaking up the sun, and excitedly looking at some whales, seals, or other sea creatures that happened to visit our little stretch of warm sand. Nor was it the emergency trip, to a funeral or some crisis. Instead, it was something in between.

It would be a three day weekend at the beginning of spring with the extended family. It would be a brief respite from ongoing litany of recent crises. It was an inconvenient time to go. There were several burgeoning crises and others still in full bloom that needed to be attended to. Yet the whole extended family would be there and I knew that I needed at least a little time to decompress.

Even so, I was heading out late, alone. Kim and Fiona had already left the morning before, but I couldn't manage to take as much time as they were taking.

Before I left, I visited Librivox; a website where volunteers read books in the public domain, mostly from Project Gutenberg, and share them for anyone to download. I had a collection of short stories and Virginia Woolf's third novel, Jacob's Room, which I had loaded onto my cellphone. I listened to them the way others listen to books on tape as they drive. A volunteer from Richmond Virginia named Amber intoned, "This is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. Jacob's Room, Chapter 3, by Virginia Woolf read by Amber; Richmond Virginia"

I've always loved Virginia Woolf's writing, and as I listened, I wondered how much her voice has changed mine. I listened to the short stories and thought of more ideas for my own writing.

Now, it is Saturday morning. I look out the windows of the beach house and see the white caps on the bay. Much of the snow has already melted, but there is still plenty on the ground. I remember, years ago, hearing Angelica Garnett talking about life in the Bloomsbury Group. It is a whole different story which I often tell, and should write down for my blog. I believe she was talking about Virginia Woolf, but she may have been talking about Vanessa Bell, who would be the first one up and stare quietly over her cup of coffee. "I have done with words, how much better the silence, the coffee cup".

But now, the youngest of the Fallon tribe have awoken. They are sharing stories from some novel and talking about shopping in Provincetown, so my time of quiet writing time has come to an end.