It's Just a Perfect Day
I looked out the window first thing this morning. It had stopped snowing, but it must have snowed hard after I went to bed. The neighborhood was blanketed in a layer of white, perfect snow. It looked like about five inches.
After pulling on a sweater, gloves, and hat, I went out to do the shovelling.
The air was calm. It was chilly but not cold. Quiet, the sound deadened by the snowy shroud. The sun stayed hidden behind milky clouds. Ideal.
I tossed the snow this way and that, carving out the walk, the sidewalk, the walk down at the duplex, and finally the driveway. As I shovelled, I began hearing the scape of other blades through the snow and the drones of two-stroke machines used by those not fortunate enough to own a shovel.
I watched neighbors on both sides of the street clear the sidewalks
in front of their own neighbors' houses. No problem! I'd gotten this
far; it was nothing to finish this up. You're welcome...
I sat on the porch for a few minutes after finishing the job, enjoying the comfortable chill, until the call of of hot cup of coffee drew me back indoors.