Snow

I got notice via email that UPS was unable to deliver Kerouac’s Lonesome Traveler, I presume because of snow. Seattle got five or so inches. Brilliant white powder & ice. Amazing to see people trying to drive. Awful risk. I see cars sliding down hills sideways. One wonders what would make someone crazy enough to get in a car and try to negotiate this enchanting but treacherous substance. I stuck my head out on the porch in the hope the message was wrong and the delivery was actually made, Kerouac’s Lonesome Traveler reposing on the milk box. Nothing there. No Lonesome Traveler. A crow across the street caught my attention, rummaging through the snow to get something on the ground that might be edible, flipping it away with his beak and wings. Several hours later I put on my running clothes and wait for R to get home. She arrives with a heavy bag full of suet for the songbirds which she hangs in a little cage from the limb of a nearby tree. I get my Yaktrax and pull them on under my shoe, a rubber framework that stretches over the shoe with little cleats on the bottom. They make all the difference in the world. Give me traction. Without them I’d be slipping and sliding all over the place. I get outside and the air is so cold it stings. I feel like I’m on another planet. But once I get going it isn’t bad. And by the time I finish a mile it feels warm as a balmy day in spring. I stop occasionally to toss some peanuts to the crows. They’re famished and extremely excited to see me. I toss the peanuts where the snow has gotten a little packed due to the feet of people out walking and sliding or in the streets where it has hardened under the cars that have foolishly dared to travel in this stuff.  The cars with four-wheel drive do ok. Power is delivered to all four wheels simultaneously thereby enhancing traction. Traction is gold. It’s a genuine treasure when you’re driving or running. Fingers on my left hand stung like crazy. Think it’s because I wear two different woolen gloves, one with a closer knit, which I wore on my right hand. I put my left hand in my left pants pocket and let the warmth from my thigh warm it until the pain went away. Surprised to see so many people out walking, kids sledding, having the time of their lives. Wonder how many appointments got canceled. Seattle is paralyzed on heavy snow days. It’s because of the hills and fluctuations in temperature, snow melts and turns to ice. Black ice. You don’t see it. You just go sliding. Or take a spill. I hoped to get more peanuts to Louise, the crow with the bad leg, but she didn’t come out. I tried whistling, to no avail. Too cold. I just puffed out air accompanied by a tiny whistle-like sound that hardly qualified as a whistle. And went home and had dinner. Greek pasta. And a movie in which a young Englishman travels in time by getting into a dark room and clenching his fists. His dad, Bill Nighy, charming as ever, playing ping pong & reading Dickens.