Snow fall is generally prettier before the plows start up. Because we live across from a school, our street is always plowed, salted and sanded early and frequently, resulting in muddy, gray-brown piles lining the road and blocking our driveways.
Sometimes my husband throws shovels full of snow back on to the road. I like that. I have a friend who once had a dispute with a plow driver – I can’t remember why. But it resulted in his furiously shoveling snow back on to the road in front of the plow driver. I didn't like that.
In simpler times, I can recall my Dad greeting the plow drivers on our cul-de-sac with shots of whiskey. This kept the drivers warm and ensured that our driveway was never obstructed in by a muddy, brown-gray pile.
I wonder what the plow drivers do on the 362 days we don’t have snow. How do they keep up their skills in the summer months? Are they good at driving their own cars in the snow? Points to ponder on a glistening, quiet, white morning.