The weather forecaster says it will snow tomorrow morning. I listen to people groan and complain about the inconvenience it causes and the need to fire up the snowblower. I commiserate with the traffic issue, but my soul loves when it snows. Shoveling the driveway is an enchanting occasion. My favorite time to complete my cherished chore is late at night, while big fluffy flakes float from the heavens and slowly settle to the ground.
The neighborhood is quiet. On the main road, heavy-duty dump trucks, equipped with giant blades, scrape the pavement. The plows won’t venture down my tiny residential street until they clear and salt the major arteries. For now, it is me and the astonishing comfort of silence. The snow shovel grates on cement, cracking the brittle cold air as I erase any evidence of the white powder. The temperature gauge hovers around freezing, but I am warm, and I couldn’t be happier. These are the minutes I live for.
What are your happy little moments?
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer