When you live in a cold climate and buy a house situated straight back in a cul de sac, life is grand about 345 days per year. That’s when it’s either not snowing or not snowing enough to make a significant impact on your life.*
However, in the course of those other 20 days, when everyone’s front yards come to rival my hometown ski bump Mt. Brighton for the self-proclaimed title of “Snow-Making Capital of the Midwest,” something else altogether is happening at the back of the cul de sac.
Prose just won’t do it justice, so instead, allow me to close your Wednesday with an illustrative haiku.
The plow walls in our driveway.
Dude, watch the mailbox.
My first poetry anthology should be available on Amazon shortly.
*My plan to talk about this “down the road” apparently meant I’d do so within 24 hours.