Working during the Storm, by Susan Oleksiw

As I sit down to write this post on Thursday afternoon I’m stymied for something to write about, for a topic that will be fascinating or useful or at least original. But with the snow falling fast and mostly sideways, the plows targeting our driveway for their extra load, the sidewalks impassible despite two passes with a snow blower, I just want to curl up with a good book in my lap, pretend I’m reading, and stare at the flames in the gas-fired franklin stove.

My brain seems to be as frozen as the ice underneath the accumulating snow. Every few minutes the wind hits the house and a loose screen rattles behind a storm window. I don’t feel even a shiver during the strongest gust. The birds have hunkered down but a single brown leaf hangs on to a branch, defying the laws of physics and refusing to be pulled away. I haven’t seen a squirrel all day—smart creatures. I hear a thud, a clunk, and look out the window to see a plow backing into a snow bank in front of our house, preparing to get up speed to attack the snowdrifts in the driveway across the street.

A lone car growls along the poorly plowed street. I hear the sputtering and burring of a snow blower starting up, but when I look up and down the street I don’t see a neighbor out clearing a section of sidewalk or path up to a house. Despite the accumulation on street and yard, I see less than an inch on the top of my car where I would expect to see a crown that would take me a half hour to clear completely. But there is at least two feet of snow settled on the hood. My neighbor’s azalea maintains its shape despite the growing snow cover but my azalea and rhody are nearly crushed by the accumulation.

I may feel I have nothing to say today, but I’m absorbing the sights and sounds of a heavy winter storm, feeling warm and cozy before I feel a sudden hit of cold air on my back that sweeps through the crevices of hundred-year-old windows without adequate weather stripping. This is a great day to be a writer, a day for sitting and absorbing the sounds and feeling of the storm, taking in details that will serve me at a later time.

To find Susan’s work, with and without snowstorms, go here:

https://www.amazon.com/Susan-Oleksiw/e/B001JS3P7C

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/SusanOleksiw

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/susan+oleksiw?_requestid=1017995

And visit me here:

https://www.facebook.com/susan.oleksiw.author/

http://www.susanoleksiw.com

https://www.pinterest.com/susanoleksiw/

And on Twitter, Susan Oleksiw @susanoleksiw