Leaving the tiny post office, looking toward the two lane road and my car parked in a cleared space about 25 feet away. Then looking just to my left at the mail box and behind it the narrow street where I usually park when I stop at that Post Office. My car is nearly dwarfed by a pile of snow about 9 feet high.
Streets in this residential area are two lane, the lanes are at least six inches narrower than normal due to the piled snow. At any crossing, easing into the larger or more frequented street is scary. It is impossible to see in either direction if anything is coming. Many people, elated to be on relatively clean streets after a week of blizzards, whiz along at 35 or so (the speed limit) and don't pay attention to the possibility of other cars entering from the side streets. Visibility is a serious problem.
I was going to look for "pretty" snow pictures, but I've found none. This wasn't a pretty week of storms, most of the snow was too heavy to make graceful designs on the trees. What we have are piles of snow, lumpy, unlovely, and they are getting filthy, of course. Nothing very nice I can say about this blizzard. And the many people suffering burst water pipes due to the plunge in temperature a couple of days ago have nothing positive to say. I'm only glad that today was mostly sunny, my parking lot was nicely plowed and I was able to go to a class at A.L.L., see a group of people, chat with others and over come the growing feeling of cabin fever.
The mid-70s are a surprise! Part of me remains in the 50s -- age, I mean, not decade of 20th century. It's a joy ride, new experiences land in my lap and I've become a better quilter, poet, writer than I expected. It's a rich life for a person never rich financially. Hey, this is what the mid-70s are like!