Snow Day

Snow Day.

Snow Day

We all were fooled again!
Things had warmed up. The cliffs of snow along the parking lots were melting down to a dirty grey. People were pulling out their shorts, after all it was above 30 F degrees! The streets, not the sidewalks were down to the pavement, and the frozen iced-up door to my North facing garage thawed and became unstuck.
Sandbag Central (in Fargo) met it’s goal and we had hopes that the slow thawing snow perhaps wouldn’t cause such a bad flood this year after all.
It had been a season of Sunday night blizzards.
Well, guess again! The streets are full of this fluffy-white, slushy stuff again. My landlord forbids us to park in the parking lot during inclement weather so they can plow. I refuse to park in a garage which freezes shut. Unless I want to park at the Y two blocks away and trudge back in the street, dodging disgruntled, discourteous drivers who are visually impaired by low visibility, I park in the street.
I came out of the weekend hibernation and brought bags of garbage to the dumpsters. The heavy snow on top of them, measuring from my elbow to my fingertip weighed down the lid. I pushed the wet mass from the front of one lid and was able to lift it enough to push my trash inside.
Next, I found my car. I then pushed the mattress of freshly cushioned snow off of my car on the driver’s side. Rocked back and forth gunning my engine in the forward rock, and freed my car. I got out in the middle of the street and I proceeded to remove the mass of snow from the passenger side, blocking some traffic. I drove into the lot. As I type, the snow is slipping off of my car in small avalanches.
I’m heading to my part-time job for a while, as I am too stir-crazy to wait out the continuing snowfall.
Yeh, we are fools!

Canadian Geese

Canadian Geese.

Canadian Geese

Canadian Geese
The trumpeting sounds of the migrating geese in the Fall,
Forebode a Winter season, of which I dread,
Returning, that same sound, I greet with a welcome call,
As they travel Northward, in the Spring, instead.
Perhaps, someday, I’ll be a “Snow-bird,”
And follow them on their way,
Or move, somewhere, elsewhere onward,
Or, perhaps, I’ll stay.
4/8/2013 VJK