Shoveling Snow

I knew this storm was coming, so I prepared.

The kids were already bickering early this morning, so I tossed them breakfast and escaped outside to shovel snow.

I shoveled a stripe through the driveway and thought about getting the mighty minivan up the slope for our Sunday morning obligation. I tossed a shovelful of snow. I heard the cadence... "For them"

I wondered if I was doing this right. Is there a better way? Who cares, it seems to work. Just get the stuff off the driveway. Get it over with. I tossed the next shovelful harder and a little further "For me"

A hummingbird zipped overhead and another one came to drive it away. I love maintaining the feeders year round even though it's a pain when it freezes outside. These are my birds. I'm committed to caring for them. Another shovelful "For them"

Why is my face wet? Everything is dripping. Maybe it'll just melt some if I leave it alone. Plus, it's probably going to snow again soon anyway and I'll have to redo it all. Doesn't matter. The purpose is to prevent snowpack. Wow, I'm a whole lot stronger now since the last time it snowed here. This is tedious, but easy. I've been at it for 45 minutes and I'm halfway done. I'm not tired, except for thinking of the amount of time this all takes and the likelihood I'll soon be repeating it. So much time and effort. I hope it's worth something. Is this all wasted? Wait, it doesn't matter. I'm doing it. Toss "For me"

The sky is pink. I'm always amazed at the properties airborne particulates have for muting everything. It's absolutely silent out except for the noises I make. Shoveling covers a variety of sounds. I am actually hiding from my children. I am shoveling snow right now. No, don't step on it until I've cleared it. Go back inside please. Right now. I time my asphalt scraping as an acoustic cover for myself and preserve the silent space in between "For them"

This work is the work. I'm still working. The kids finally get bored and stop trying to communicate with me. This isn't about getting the mighty minivan out of the driveway Sunday morning anymore. A car goes by. They're probably going to cancel anyway. "For me"

For me, for them

This isn't lonely work. This is work I do alone. I clear the driveway. It takes forever. I'll do it again. Doesn't matter. It's not the point. I don't even have to shovel at all. The choice is mine. I'm prepared.

For me, for them