February 17, 2025

In the forefront of this picture is the end of my driveway which is a chunk of ice.  It needs more than a shovel to remove it.  The title of today is "Stuck."

 

Still stuck, but at least able to walk out.

First thing I know at 6:30 this morning is that I'm not going anywhere in a hurry.

And the texts begin to arrive, she's stuck, he's stuck, she may get out.

D got stuck and had to call a tow truck,

S knew he would not be able to dig himself out by 11.

E. decided to try, and G. shoveled 4 cars out before 9.

T. was stuck,

my neighbor had to call another plow guy

and the police helped dig out a passing car who slipped off the road.

Took them 35 minutes and there were 4 diggers.

Stuck

No one was going out. Slowly the sun began to shine through clouds

blue patches shaped like hearts appeared.

J got out and slowly made it around roads

covered in packed snow and ice blocks.

Picked me up to bring me to my appointment

that was cancelled and I was not informed.

I was stuck in the waiting room.

It used to be like this throughout winter.   We've forgotten,

too used to moving too fast, not sitting and waiting

for it to clear.

Today was a refresher course in winter wonders.

Was it a perfect day to stay home and read poetry.

write music, take out your watercolors?

If I had not been stuck I would have gone on an eagle search.  They are building nests and in spite of the wind, I think they must have been working hard, thus, visible.  Two years ago, when David was living on Leverett Pond I got some beauties.  I'm going to try this week to shoot them.

A story to tell, a story to tell about snow,  sledding down the hill from Dalrymple on trays, plastic trays, I never did it myself.  I was convinced I'd break an arm or my head.  But many people did on a night like tonight in the dark.  A million miles an hour they'd come flying down the hill and try to stop before they smashed into the Dining Hall.  

Or when we were kids and we'd skate on the Mitchell's pond. That's the pond I fell through wearing Barb's new skates.  What a bratty little sister thing to do.  

The 1973 ice storm, some of my first really good photographs, I took them with my Pentax that Paul and Mike had found me.  Ectochrome 35 millimeter film and those amazing contrasts in color.

I suppose I could do a narrative poem about the boys who shoveled my sidewalks.  That was the best thing about moving off of Federal St., there are no side walks here.  If I don't shovel my walkway its only me who is harmed and I'm not waking up too early knowing I can't do it. 

Today, Gary came over and did it for me.  I'm pretty lucky that I have friends who will come and shovel a path for me, even when the end of the driveway is a block of ice.   I'm pretty lucky and grateful and I don't mind saying it over and over again.

Thank you, friends.

With any luck I will get the car situation straightened out tomorrow. With any luck I will be back on the road by Wednesday afternoon. We do not have snow in the forecast for the rest of the week, so maybe I'll get the driveway cleared, too.  And just maybe I will get that brilliant shot of an eagle.

One thing I know for sure is baby Tilton will be born tomorrow.  YAY!!!