It took me over an hour yesterday to dig out the snowbank from in front of the garage. This morning, I'm taking the car out to the burbs. It continued to snow all day yesterday and now we've got a good foot and a half on the ground. I'll be taking it slow and steady this morning, but it should be alright as all the major arteries have been cleared. I have to put a shovel in the car too. People keep giving me more information on winter driving preparation. Apparently, you need a shovel because if a snowplow decides to come by, there will be an impenetrable bank of snow to dig your car out of. Also, if you do get stuck, you need to have provisions inside the car in case rescue is long in coming. A blanket, candle, dry foods and water are all recommended. It reminds me of the three day earthquake kit we're all encouraged to have in California. (That was one of my get rich quick ideas way back when, to market earthquake preparedness kits, but the idea never went past the paper sketches and dreams of riches. Eventually, others put the idea into practice, and presumably got rich.) Right now, I'm writing a note and putting it on my bag so that I remember to at least put a shovel in the car this morning.
It might sound like I'm whining about the snow. In truth, I adore it. The two days of constant falling snow have created a cotton candy wonderland. The wind sculpts the snow into patterns that remind me of the topography of distant planets. Whole cars are completely covered mounds with only the side mirrors sticking out like pimples. Sidewalks have become corridors. Roofs look like gingerbread houses. Tree branches festooned in white hang low as if bowing to passersby. The people of the city are bonded by the universal experience of a Montreal winter, the snow is on everyone's lips. I even enjoy the rhythmic workout of shoveling the snow, feeling new muscles engaged and seeing the new pathways I've etched. Snow is quite simply divine. (Remind me I wrote this in March, will you?)