Dawn Reader

Dawn Reader
from Open Door Coffee Co.; Hudson, OH; Oct. 26, 2016

Saturday, December 22, 2012

Winter Sounds

Last night, here in northeastern Ohio, the winter sounds commenced. High winds.  Rattling windows. Sleet pelting the glass. Plows moving up and down streets.  You know ...

Where we live (next to a funeral home with a large parking lot) there are other sounds.  The owners like to keep their lot absolutely clear of winter, so trucks were over there early this morning (three-ish?) scraping away.  Such gentle nocturnal sounds.  I could also hear other small plows nearby--some with that delightfully piercing beep-beep-beep whenever they were backing up.  Which was often.  Those trucks had their sound effects timed very well: Just as I would start to drift off, a sharp beep! would remind me that this was not a night for sleeping.  This was a night for waxing romantic about winter ...

The trucks eventually moved elsewhere to awaken other sleeping folks, and I drifted into a bizarre dream about animals that made beeping sounds.

Until about 5 a.m.  When I heard that sweet sound a snow shovel makes when it scrapes a sidewalk.  Scrape! Scrape! [pause for tossing] Scrape! Scrape! [pause for tossing] ...

I tried to let my dreams "go with it" (could I somehow integrate those scraping sounds with the beeping animals?).

Didn't work.  Awake.

I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.  Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.  The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow ...

No.  I staggered out of bed, stumbled to the window, looked out: A neighbor was shoveling her walk and driveway--an early departure for a Holiday visit.  Awwwwwwwwwwwww.  (That sound does not adequately express what I actually felt--which was an odd emotional mix of rage and Christmas cheer.)

Joyce was already up, getting ready to head out to the health club.  (What a woman!)

I was wondering if sleep were still  possible.  I looked at the bed.  It shook its head at me: Nah, you ain't sleepin' here no more! was the clear message.  So I made the bed.  Headed for the shower.

When I came out and dressed, I saw that the neighbor was indeed loading bundles of presents into her car (I am so Sherlockian sometimes) and was about to head out.  And I was readying to go out to shovel when ...

Wait!  Our sidewalk was clear!  Did our neighbor ... ?  Nah.  She wouldn't ...

I moved to another window, another view of another portion of the sidewalk.


Out there shoveling show--my snow.  She was paused for the moment, leaning on the shovel, exchanging pleasantries with a shoveler working to remove every flake from the funeral home lot.

I moved downstairs as she was returning the shovel to the garage.  I knocked on the door glass.  Opened it.  I'm off to the club! she chirped as cheerfully as any bird in spring.  Got my back exercises in already!

I muttered thanks and something about how I had been planning to shovel ...

She smiled.  Climbed in the car, backed out, headed off for another workout.

While I stood there thinking about a nice hot scone.

1 comment:

  1. Very entertaining post. I hope you've managed to have quieter dreams since then.