If you followed the national weather last week (or talked to me), you’ll know that a blizzard blew through Boston a week ago and dumped a ton of snow. When I came back on Friday, I expected to have to dig my car out from under the accumulated snow. I was right. Snow was piled up on top of, in front of, and behind my Corolla. So I decided to stop in at the hardware store around the corner and buy a snow shovel when I took Spur out for a walk. But I got up at 4:00 that morning after about four hours of sleep to catch my flight, and walking in the mud and slushy snow around the Reservoir was more of a workout than I was really expecting, and so I changed my mind and just went home. And did nothing. It was beautiful.
So then the plan was to saunter over to the hardware store on Saturday and get a shovel. You know, in the afternoon. And it was nearly 50 degrees, and it had been similarly warm for the past couple of days, so I figured that I would let then sun melt away as much as possible before I employed any physical exertion. I wouldn’t need my car before Sunday morning for church anyway. It was a good, solid plan. It had only one flaw; the hardware store was closed for New Year. I looked at CVS, but they didn’t have any shovels (I didn’t really expect them to). So I went home and did nothing. It was still beautiful.
I figured out that it would be pretty easy and fast to get to church on the T, so that was the plan. But when I looked out at my car this morning, the snow pile behind it had sufficiently melted for me to back out. And that’s just what I did. It was even more beautiful.