Snow days have their own rhythm, different from other days. I wake in the middle of the night and see the message flashing on my phone: snow day, no school. I go back to bed and sleep long.
When I wake, I don't shower and try to look gorgeous. Instead I put on snow pants, an old shirt, big boots, hat, and thick ski gloves. I push the door open, pushing against snow. I go out into a white world. The snow is heavy and deep. I grab the shovel and clear in front of the door. Then the steps. I see that my plow guy has been here already. The driveway is half cleared of snow; he plows all he can reach, and I scoop the rest. He plows my lawn and my neighbor's too, so I have a place to put the scooped snow. I scoop the deck and the driveway until I get tired and hungry. It's still snowing, so the deck is covered again when I go back inside. Hot coffee and an egg sandwich.
It will snow all day and I will go out and scoop every few hours. Inside I will write a paper, answer work emails, edit a new online course, and read. Outside: plow trucks go by, very few cars, neighbors run snow blowers and brush off their cars. The snow falls quietly, steadily.
