Winter comes to washington.

The car breaking down, the writing I have (and want) to do, feeling less blah and more superstar at work, not reacting to perceived injustices with emotion and drama? I’m working on these.

But shovelling? That I can do.

[Mr. Moon, DonCsabito on flickr]

It takes me home, to my youth, to my first quasi-grown-up experience: college with my green snap-together plastic shovel in my Nissan Maxima station wagon trunk, digging MYSELF out, getting my own snow tires (or not), falling for the “winterizing package” at Jiffy Lube.

But shovelling? Shovelling is home. When it’s powdery bluewhite crystal, and swishes off the plastic and crinkles under your toes? A chill in your nose, but the light from the house warming your path, showing you are not far from your long winter’s nap.

Winter walking? the whoosh whoosh crunch of the still blue night and my boots and mittens swishing and stretching. That is home and it is a good one.

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3 Comments

  1. 2writehands said,

    Wrote on January 29, 2009 @ 4:51 pm

    I’ve been complaining about the foot of snow and the cold. But you actually make winter sound kind of…well, nice. 🙂

    Thanks so much for stopping over at my blog and for adding me to your favorites!–Emily

    2writehandss last post: I’m not here.

  2. Mom said,

    Wrote on January 30, 2009 @ 9:54 pm

    Feeling nostalgic. Come home to Cuse and climb the 4 foot snow banks in the back yard! WHEN IS IT GOING TO MELT.

  3. washwords said,

    Wrote on February 4, 2009 @ 10:45 pm

    ha! did it melt yet mom? Thanks for my flowers – they lived a LONG time and enabled me to do that shovelling, knowing I had tulips and irises blooming inside.

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