Shoveling Snow

Those of you who know me know that I dont like being watched. I dont like it when people watch me eat, or cook, or walk down the street. Its creepy, and its rude. But there was one time in my life that a watchful eye was a good thing.

It was a cold and snowy night, much like last night, and I was shoveling snow off my driveway. I enjoy shoveling snow, especially at night, when theres no wind, and its peaceful and quiet. Besides, it gives me a feeling of accomplishment. . I shovel snow in the same manner I run the sweeper or you might mow the grass, in straight lines, back and forth, inching my way down the driveway to the street. I was doing just fine with my little routine. Push push push the shovel, squat, lift, fling. Turn 90 degrees, turn 90 degrees, push push push, squat, lift, fling. Every now and then, Id check my progress by stabbing the blade of the shovel into the snow to make sure there was grass underneath on the sides of the driveway.

Then one time when I stabbed, the shovel hit pavement. I stabbed again, a few inches away, and still no grass, just pavement. Was I lost? I might as well have been, because I had become disoriented. The night was still and quiet. There was no traffic in the street. No dogs were barking, and not a soul was outside making any noise at all. I could not hear where my house was or which way I was facing. Heck. I might as well have been shoveling the street for the last few passes for all I knew. I stood there in the night, listening, trying to figure out what I should do next.

Then I heard it, a voice calling out Step a little to your left honey. The voice came from across the street and belonged to my elderly neighbor. I realized then that he had been watching me the whole time. I did step a little to my left, and there it was, the edge of my driveway. Forgetting that it was creepy and rude, and greatly relieved, for once, I was glad somebody had been watching me.

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