Some thoughts on making space

On shovelling snow and finding peace

We’ve had two snow days this week, dear reader.

It appears that more are on the way. I’m a bit worried. The snow piles around the yard are growing quickly. Soon, there won’t be any more room to move the stuff.

Snow season’s arriving here in Dartmouth a little bit early this year.

Typically snow doesn’t begin to accumulate until February or March. By the time it arrives, spring is just behind it.

When I was delivering with Ricky it was a different story.

In Nova Scotia, you’re only about sixty kilometres from the ocean. Here in Dartmouth, I can walk to the harbour. The coastline is a mere seven kilometres away.

But with Ricky? We were far inland, delivering to parts of the province that are both inland and at a much higher elevation than here in Dartmouth.

There, they’ve had massive snow piles since early December. Sure there have been a few thaws, but up there in the hills, the snow arrived and won’t be gone till sometime in late April.

A lot of the people out there live in homes way back from the road. Each driveway we encountered was a bit of a mystery.

Should we go down that one Jimmy? What do you think it’s like under the snow?

Ricky and I could never tell if things were icy or not.

Some driveways were easier.

If we arrived at a place and the house was uphill from the road, we’d always give the driveway a try. We’d roll up and if it was too slippery, we’d stop, back out and then be on our way.

The package could wait till the ice either melted or had some grit thrown on top of it.

However, dear reader, if a home was located below the street, we wouldn’t even try.

Why try if we might end up stuck for multiple hours with dozens of packages aboard?

There were some cases however when we could get down to business.

I know these people. They take great care of their driveway.

Ricky knew all of his regulars and how they maintained not only their driveways, but their ‘turn arounds’.

If you live rurally on a big lot, it’s more than likely that you don’t simply have a one lane driveway. Country folks seem to have many vehicles and gas powered toys that need room to operate.

There were a lot of our regulars who prided themselves on how well they cleared their yards.

WOW, you guys did a great job up here. I’m grateful that I can cross your yard with confidence, I told one lady.

Thanks! I’ll tell my husband. He takes a lot of pride in this!

Three stops later we came up to another wonderful house. It was way back from the road. Their driveway wasn’t merely cleared. It was sanded too. Once we arrived at the compound we found a home, two sheds and a three car garage. They had a tractor, an ATV a plow truck, two parts truck and two vehicles that looked like the family’s daily drivers.

The homeowner was scraping off the steps as I approached.

Wow! You sure have done a hell of a job here sir.

The homeowner grinned.

Thanks bud! I spend a lot of time out here in the evenings. It’s real peaceful out here all alone at night.

I felt a twinge of envy.

I want to live in the country on a big old lot with a backyard filled with broken down old trucks and a tractor from the 50’s that causes nothing but eruptions of either swearing or delight.

I looked up at the moon and marvelled at the peace of it.

So with all of the snow here, dear reader, and all of the snow coming, I’ve been living my rural dream on a suburban lot. I’m clearing the yard - not for delivery drivers, nor to turn around my truck. I clear pathways for the animals.

Whether it’s a place for our tiny dogs to sniff, shit and piss or pathways to the chicken coop, I’ve been out every night shovelling and clearing paths and little areas in my back yard.

It’s been transformational!

In places where I typically lay in the grass and cuddle with my cats, I now have a four foot tall mountain.

Grey gravel has given way to white snow with yellow markings all along where the paths lie.

In the summer, the garden beds here are bursting with overgrown life. There’s food everywhere you look.

In the fall, I get a chance to marvel at the decay and the loss and rot that accompanies all life.

Spring?

Spring is messy. There’s a mix of the old and new - old rotting plants from last year - mustard skeletons and our unkillable kale zombies haunt all of our beds. Old trellises dangle brown twine like sad, undersized gallows.

Mixed with this is all of the new life bursting from below.

But winter?

We’re not outside as much.

With its blanket of snow, our travels are limited to the little pathways I’ve carved through the yard.

I started the week worried that I’d run out of places to put the snow.

As it turns out, there’s always room for a new path - even if it’s just big enough for the dogs to take a piss.

But maybe, dear reader, that’s what winter’s for - shrinking the world down to a few well worn paths.

Winter reminds us that peace can be found in the simple act of clearing a little space for ourselves.

Keep on shovelling and warm, you fools!