We have not had this much snow in many years. It usually snows in October in time for Halloween, a bit in November and not much in December. The snow doesn’t last. We don’t wear boots until December when temperature really drops. On Christmas day we have rain. Santa has to come by wheeled vehicule.
But this is our second snowstorm in two weeks and the snow stays. It doesn’t magically melt away. The snow comes down steadily, light, small snowflakes that shine in the light of street lamps. Tiny crystals. Some people just shoosh the snow out of their way with brooms, others shovel it out from alleys onto frontyards. Some walk in the street in the tire tracks while some struggle on the sidewalks. Cars are covered, stairs are becoming invisible, doors are jammed, cats are stuck inside.
As I walk home, all I hear is the muffled sounds of a few cars on the road, the constant low hum of the wind, the swinging of electric lines, my breathing and my steps in the fresh crunching snow. Somewhere, a couple of streets away, I hear a snowblower reversing. Muffled, gentle, solitary sounds.
While I push the snow away with my feet in the stairs I hear nothing else than the scratching of my boots on the jute carpet. My coughing sounds are deafening in the eerie silence surrounding the triplex I live in.
I come home to my cat and when I enter the bathroom I hear it again…the sounds of the snowstorm : drip, drip. The ceiling is dripping and so is the skylight.
I love snowstorms.