Another blizzard is blanketing the garden.
By morning the bird feeder will be none existent buried with snow.
I will need to wake early to brush it off not just for the birds
but for the squirrels who awake at dawn searching for breakfast.
Shovels are near by to create a path but will I be ready
to clear a path? Depends on the night. I’m sure they will understand
if I sleep in this night. If not lunch will be ready by noon.
The wind blows bitter coating the land with snow, a dry snow, making the inches easier to shovel. Days on end the shoveling persists clearing walks and ways making travelling passable.
Nights are spent with road crews working in the cold to make this town safe for travellers, be it those who need to reach their destinations in and out of town, commuters to the city. Bless them.
The morrow will see another clean up as the snow gods are relentless this night. Bed will be a reprieve while I rest to wake for another day of shoveling. Banks are already four feet high and my arms don’t have the throw as they once had.
It has been a bitter winter...
