I awoke this morning around 5:45 to the sound of a low sliding crunch. My bed is tucked right under the roof and when snow is sliding off the roof, over the eaves, and into the yard below, it makes quite a ruckus. A fresh layer of snow settled in the valley overnight.
According to the trusty locals, we've had a very mild winter here in Halfway, OR. I know this to be true because there is evidence of last year's hard winter everywhere - barns down, damaged roof lines, and dented outbuildings, collapsed under the weight of heavy snow, yet to be repaired. I'm lucky. My initiation to winter in the Eagle Cap Wilderness has been merciful.
Never-the-less, as soon as I realized that we have a snowy walk to school ahead of us, I popped out of bed, threw on my boots and headed down stairs to fetch the snow shovel. My son Charlie uses a wheel chair and he and I need a clean path from our front door to the street. Once we're in the street, we just pop-a-wheelie and push through. But the 7 steps to the sidewalk can be a doozy if its icy.
I don't mind these little inconveniences. Life here in my new home has been extraordinarily good. The people are welcoming. The views are spectacular. And our new house is everything we need it to be and more. This morning, I am grateful.
And I'm also grateful for snow shovels.