Speaking of squirrels, (I'm sure someone must be speaking of squirrels) I'm thrilled to see them scurrying over the snow banks in the yard, such signs of life bring hope to a winter weary heart. Faith has not noticed them yet, or the chase would be on.
By Tuesday evening we were once again unable to navigate the deep drifts that had blown across our road. The snow sparkled in the mid Wednesday sun, the sky flashed a brilliant blue and we felt drawn again and again to the front window squinting into the distance for any sign of the plow. By 8:00, as the sun was quickly disappearing, there was still not a glimpse and Rick prepared for calling in to take another snow day. 8:15 and there were lights, glorious, flashing, twinkling lights. The roar of the motor was a cry of emancipation!
My mind was was rewriting that old classic song about saints:
Oh when the plows, oh when the plows
Come rolling in, come rolling in
Oh when the plows come rolling in
I can feel a rush of freedom
Yes when the plows come rolling in
Rick drove off happily to work this morning. I'm here watching the squirrels, not leaving home, but quite content to know I could if I wanted to.
Join Duane and the gang for more random outbursts here