Snow fell during the night. Winter is settling in for a protracted stay. Today the wind was swirling the snow dust into a haze just a few inches above the snow already on the ground. The surface of the snow looked like rippling sand dunes. It was really pretty.
I found it less attractive when I stepped outside and the cold and snow hit me in the face. I fired up the snowblower and ripped up the relative peace of the wind and the cold. It wasn’t fun or pretty anymore. I yelled into my self-created snowblower storm, my face and ears were cold and I couldn’t see a thing. Duh! The snowblower should always point downwind. Seems the laws of physics apply to snow. Hmmm – who would of thought . . . . . . . The rest of my snowblower adventure was much better than the beginning.
My oldest son and I went over to our neighbor’s house to see if we could help push his car out of a snowbank. Some of the other neighbors stopped to see if they could help. We were unsuccessful, but sometimes it really is the thought that counts.
There’s an occasional moment when I wonder why I live here, but those moments are few and far between. It is days like this that keep those wondering moments so far apart.
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