As many of you know, the Northeast has been swallowed: SNOW!!! Thick, wet, heavy, snow. Most of my neighbors have snowblowers. I often can see spouts of snow reaching high into the cold New Jersey air. I, however, am a shoveler. I’ve always enjoyed wielding a shovel, making a path through the snow. It’s noble work. I accomplished something nobel today. My snow shovel was brandished well.
Often, between shovel swipes, I stopped, stood still, and let the day, the stillness of it, envelop me. It’s beautiful. And, I was not alone. All about me, birds darted from branch to branch, sometimes silent, sometimes dicing the silence with chirps and tweets.
Three particular birds caught my eye most often. A red, red cardinal flamed like a torch against the snow and sky, white and grey. A blue jay, with its raucous call, perched on trees all about me. It’s blue feathers reminding me of the sky behind the clouds. Finally, I saw a robin, what I consider a bird of spring. I found it ironic, yet wonderful, to see it today, perched above me, its feathers puffed thick, its red breast – the day’s heart.
It’s no wonder, at least to me, why I enjoy shoveling snow.