In like a pride of lions
Let’s agree on one thing; winter is not yet over. Forget removing the snow tires this weekend because the shop is quiet. Don’t try to hide the shovels under the deck. First of all, the Red Bull Challenge now needs a few good volunteers to clear the track. Second of all, the deck is now in snowshoe territory.
I left for work this morning, desparaging the weather channel for building up my hopes and then not delivering. The recycle bin sitting on top of the fast melting banks, and the pavement clear enough to play chalk games. The taste of an early spring on my lips. I’m ready for a lighter coat. By midmorning, it was clear that stormy weather was on its way in. The other bank of the river was gone.
When we returned to the office shortly after noon, we didn’t even get inside. The flood of people heading home was message enough. Catch my bus (coming into sight, sort of, in the blowing snow) and head for home. Of course, a short detour to a magazine shop and a sandwich counter didn’t count; any trip across town during the day takes 90 minutes. I had some regret about leaving a setup half done at the office, but storms take precedence over almost all other activity.
The walk home from my bus was unpleasant, nasty, painful, nauseating, over. Six minutes seeming like sixty. I was happy to have a warm dog to lick feeling back into my face. The city is shut down; the highways are closed due to accumlated snow and zero visibility. I have no reason to return outside until springtime (or at least better conditions.) March is in, like a pride of lions.
