I love the way the snow looks falling from the sky. It's heavy from last nights fall and with each scoop of my shovel I'm reminded of how old I've become. Just an hour ago I felt young and healthy, able to wrestle a bear if needed. But old man winter has a way of putting you in your place. I shovel four, maybe five scoops before resting. The cold air fills my lungs as I stand underneath another batch of fresh falling flakes. It's quite outside. So much so that I can nearly hear each new flake hitting the ground. He has a way of beating us down, old man winter. It's so different than the other seasons. There are no cars passing, no dogs barking, no kids playing. There is no green grass or flowers or colorful falling leaves. There is no hope in winter. There is no promise of warmer days or sunshine. No promise that rain will bring flowers or rainbows. There is only white ground as far as the eye can see. I look around at neighboring houses and just for a minute I enjoy it. The still. The calm. The blanket of fresh powder. With a grunt and a heave I thrust my shovel back to the ground. There are two levels of snow I attack. The first and hardest is the blanket of ice that my feet crunch with each step. The second is the pure snow, now packed tightly thanks to the ice. I alternate the shovel in my hands depending on which side of my body I toss it over. Each time on my left side I can feel the effects of an old injury just below my ribs. There is no pain, but rather a reminder of a different time in my life. A few more scoopfuls and again I rest. My body is getting quite the workout as my breathing is heavy and my arms hurt. It's old man winters way. It makes me think of other men, other husbands, other fathers who have fought the same fight, but didn't win. The snow can kill, but I am determined to clear space. To beat it. I remind myself that I'm sure others had the same thought before they collapsed. Soon I've cleared a path that allows me to get out. I am no longer stuck. As I reach the road, a feeling of victory rolls over me, like Rocky after defeating Apollo. Take that old man winter.....Yo, ADRIAN
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This almost makes me want to shovel. Almost. I, too, love the flakes as they fall but once they settle and start to get dingy, I'm over it. Here's to hoping winter has had its last hurrah and spring is on its way.
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