This morning I made peace with winter.
Yes, there is four feet of snow piled on either side of my driveway. Yes, we’re due for another 6-10 inches tonight. Yes, it’s only February 6. Well, yes – I live in Vermont.
Much to my regret, it’s in my nature to expect the worst of any situation. True, that way I usually end up being pleasantly surprised, but I spend a lot of energy and breath anticipating the end of life as I know it if a, b, c or – god forbid – d were to happen. This is a side of me that I don’t like at all.
It’s only snow. Even the guy in Newfane, Vermont, who spent two hours Friday buried in the 5-6 feet of snow that fell on him as he shoveled off his garage roof was in good spirits when rescuers got him out.
Sure, I need to drive with caution and step carefully, but the worst fate likely to befall me is what happened to a colleague on her way into the office Friday: She slipped on a patch of black ice and ended up getting an x-ray in the ED to make sure she hadn’t broken her elbow. She hadn’t. She was sore and a little embarrassed, but this, too, shall pass.
Not long ago, I quoted an old saying about learning to surf when you can’t stop the waves. The advice seems apt for snowdrifts, too. I got a great workout this afternoon trying to widen the driveway and re-shovel the path for the mailman after the roof deposited its load in the path I created Thursday. I have a metal roof, which sheds snow by itself and won’t have to be replaced while I own the house. How great is that? I’m planning to strap on the back brace and go snowshoeing tomorrow afternoon. The best snowshoeing – just like skiing – is always on fresh powder, and we don’t get it that often on a weekend.
I waste so much effort fighting against the inevitable. I don’t know why, I just know that I don’t want to be like that. As I look out now in the dark, snow falling, the world outside my window looks like a fairy land. It’s spectacularly beautiful.
So at least for now, I’m gonna go with the snow.