My favorite time to shovel snow is at night when it has just stopped falling. There is an eerie and pleasing quiet as sounds are muffled by the blanket of white and the absence of cars or other vehicles. I take my shovels outside the garage and start my initial paths down the drive. The air is purified by the freshly fallen flakes; I take deep and satisfying breaths. The only noise I hear is the scraping of my shovel against the ground. I move ahead, then retreat. And then again.
Today’s snow is light and I make quick work of it clearing the driveway and then the walkway up to the front door. Clearing the paths, the bushes and trees are thickly clothed and will be for the evening. When daylight breaks, however, they will have shed their coverings, the melt will start and the noisy day shall begin.
