It had been a good week, but still, I was happy for it to be Friday.
I was looking forward to a weekend with no commitments, heaven for an introvert.
I got home, changed out of my work clothes into something soft and comfortable, and after making supper, I crashed on the couch for a few hours, catching up on Grace & Frankie.
I got up occasionally for a snack and something to drink, and eventually I drifted off somewhere in the middle of Season 6.
The snow had started around 4:30 p.m., and had been falling steadily for about 6 hours, showing absolutely no sign of letting up. There were 18 hours of a snow advisory warning in effect still to go.
I had been snuggling on the couch with the new man in my life and decided it would be fun to go for a walk. There was very little traffic save for the snow plows passing by the house occasionally.
I put on some warm winter clothes and my tallest snow boots and we headed out into the rushing snowflakes.
Walking to the end of the driveway, I knew it had been a great decision. It was after 11:30 p.m. and there were already several inches of soft, shimmering snow on the ground. We shuffled through it happily and crossed the street.
The sky was overcast, but still very bright. The hush of the falling snow made everything peaceful, and it felt like we were the only two in the whole world.
After a block or two, I pulled my hood back so the snow could fall on my face. I looked up towards the sky. It felt amazing and made me feel like a kid again. Taking our time, we dawdled down the street, enjoying the magic of the snowfall, the sound of city salt trucks passing in the distance.
Someone once told me the only reason I’m so happy about the snow is because I don’t have to remove it. And I think that person was right about that. For awhile I didn’t like to see the snow, knowing the fatigue and soreness that would come from relocating all those snowflakes.
So I solved that problem by hiring someone to take care of it, and it was some of the best money I’ve ever spent.
The joy of the snowfall returned.
Twenty minutes into the walk, I realized I really didn’t want to head home. I wanted to walk the snow laden streets a little longer. It wasn’t even cold out, and I realized I’d been walking without my mittens on.
My sweetheart felt the same, as he was checking out every little detail on our walk. Who decides to take a walk at midnight? I do, I thought. I’m that crazy girl who just can’t get enough of the outdoors, and takes her fill in the wee hours when most are asleep.
Heading back home, a city snow plow passed us and I waved. Before I was paying someone to clear my snow, I wouldn’t have been so friendly, since the plows push quite a bit of the white stuff into my driveway as they pass.
Not tonight, as that’s someone else’s problem now.
Back at home in the yard we have a last little hurrah in the deep drifts that have built up, running back and forth tossing clumps of glistening white powder at each other. It’s clear neither of us want this magical night to be over.
Eventually we head back inside, brushing the snow off, pulling off the boots and hanging up the outwear to dry.
Then it’s off to bed for us, since it is so very late that’s it’s already tomorrow.
I give my new love a hug and a kiss, and we say goodnight.
Who’s the new guy, you ask? Well he likes his privacy, so I’ll simply introduce him as…
Happy shoveling, folks!