OK, so that was several years ago, but I like the title, so I’m using it again. Snow, snow, and more snow…I have a story to tell about snow.
The year was somewhere in the late sixties. The driveway was at the old homestead I told you about in my blogs titled: “Living in Magical Places” and part 2 “A Knock on the Door”. There were teenage girls involved. And their poor mother.
There was plenty of snow that winter and the current car was stuck in the driveway. Like really stuck. The rescue of the car began with shoveling all the area snow away from the tires. Mom tried rocking it – it wouldn’t budge either way. Sand was used liberally; rugs were tucked under the tires – and shredded – and lots of young muscles were pushed to their limit. Still, the tires just spun, and that car would not budge. It didn’t make any sense, because the snow had all been cleared away, there were plenty of helpful young arms willing to push, etc., but nope, it wouldn’t move. In desperation, my mom called a neighbor she trusted to help. He came over, got in the car, leaned down…and released the emergency brake. The car moved. (Are you laughing yet?) My mother still “curses” the driver’s ed teacher who taught her daughters to put the emergency brake on every time they parked their car – whether you were on a hill or not.
So next time your car is stuck in the driveway….
I’ll leave you with an average poem about winter that I wrote one day while mulling over past winters and present.
White, White, White (Winter)
White. White. White.
Cold. Cold. Cold.
Scrapping car windows.
Shoveling…hard on the back.
An adult’s view.
White. White. White.
Joy! Joy! joy!
Snowmen, sledding, angels marking territories
Hunkering down in a snow fort.
A child’s view.
White. White. White.
Twigs blanketed in snow
Crisp air that burns lungs
Inches of white pyramids on every surface...put another scarf on.
An adult’s view.
White. White. White.
Mountains of snow! King of the mountain! Dancers on ice!
Wet socks and mittens
Freezing at the bus stop…laughing…
A child’s view.
White. White. White.
Falling, falling, falling…
Listen to the wind blow…
Get the shovel – cleared sidewalks or snow forts?
Winter is here…
White. White. White.
Winter. Delight or misery?
An adult’s view.
A child’s view.
Your choice.
(Winter clearly brings out the poet in me.)
(Oh, crap. I have to go out and shovel.)
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