Peaceful
There's something about extreme weather temperatures that is so calming. Even with the hassles of sub-zero temps - the starting of the car five minutes before you're ready to go, the reluctance to even leave the house, the sound of the furnace running endlessly - there's an overall feeling of peace, almost like the world is in suspension.
This morning I woke up at 7:30 and knew I had to scoop the sidewalks at some point because it wasn't going to get any warmer for a few days and I couldn't just wait for it to melt like I did after the last snow storm. Around 8:00 I checked the temp at the weather station a few blocks from here and was greeted with the news that it was 0.1°. That was something positive, I thought, so I decided I might as well get the shoveling out of the way early. I figured that I could make the rest of the day more tolerable by getting out in the cold right away. It wouldn't be as hard when I had to actually go and do something.
The first thing I realized I had to do was find some gloves since I haven't worn any yet this year. I remembered there might be some in the back seat of my car so I bundled up in my pajamas, jeans, a sweater, a sweat suit, my coat and hat and managed to dig one glove, a right hand, out of my car. Luckily there was a left-handed suede glove I'd been using as a pot holder in the kitchen so I was set to shovel snow, mismatched gloves and all.
Going outside when it's so cold is almost like stepping onto the surface of Mars. The first thing you notice is the lack of noise. People aren't out hustling and bustling, especially on a holiday, when the temperature is hovering around zero. It reminds me of the old Paul Bunyan story in which it was so cold in Minnesota one year that when the lumberjacks spoke their words froze in midair and when it thawed you could hear the chatter for weeks. The only thing you really hear is your feet crunching on the fluffy snow and the scratch, scratch, scratch of your shovel on the sidewalk.
There's also an absence of odor when it's this cold. It's not just the fact that icicles are quickly growing from your nostrils. The smells of Burger King and car exhaust just don't register like they do when it's warmer. I like to imagine that's what snow smells like - nothing.
Shoveling was really a piece of cake. The snow on the sidewalk was so light that I could just push it in front of me and then toss it out of the way every 10 feet or so. My neighbors on both sides used to just take the extra couple of minutes to clear my sidewalks too but they've stopped that. They were probably looking for a little tit-for-tat but I've never really had any tat to offer them.
This morning I woke up at 7:30 and knew I had to scoop the sidewalks at some point because it wasn't going to get any warmer for a few days and I couldn't just wait for it to melt like I did after the last snow storm. Around 8:00 I checked the temp at the weather station a few blocks from here and was greeted with the news that it was 0.1°. That was something positive, I thought, so I decided I might as well get the shoveling out of the way early. I figured that I could make the rest of the day more tolerable by getting out in the cold right away. It wouldn't be as hard when I had to actually go and do something.
The first thing I realized I had to do was find some gloves since I haven't worn any yet this year. I remembered there might be some in the back seat of my car so I bundled up in my pajamas, jeans, a sweater, a sweat suit, my coat and hat and managed to dig one glove, a right hand, out of my car. Luckily there was a left-handed suede glove I'd been using as a pot holder in the kitchen so I was set to shovel snow, mismatched gloves and all.
Going outside when it's so cold is almost like stepping onto the surface of Mars. The first thing you notice is the lack of noise. People aren't out hustling and bustling, especially on a holiday, when the temperature is hovering around zero. It reminds me of the old Paul Bunyan story in which it was so cold in Minnesota one year that when the lumberjacks spoke their words froze in midair and when it thawed you could hear the chatter for weeks. The only thing you really hear is your feet crunching on the fluffy snow and the scratch, scratch, scratch of your shovel on the sidewalk.
There's also an absence of odor when it's this cold. It's not just the fact that icicles are quickly growing from your nostrils. The smells of Burger King and car exhaust just don't register like they do when it's warmer. I like to imagine that's what snow smells like - nothing.
Shoveling was really a piece of cake. The snow on the sidewalk was so light that I could just push it in front of me and then toss it out of the way every 10 feet or so. My neighbors on both sides used to just take the extra couple of minutes to clear my sidewalks too but they've stopped that. They were probably looking for a little tit-for-tat but I've never really had any tat to offer them.