Whoa, this was one scary blizzard. It battered the Northeast with historic levels of snow and wind. Worcester, where I live, was hit hardest. We got 34.6 inches of snow and winds seemingly out to teach us who is boss with below below-zero, face-freezing cold.
This is what I saw looking out out from my front portico:
My poor car and shrubbery. However, when I ventured out to survey the damage, I got a couple of pleasant surprises. My two favorite rock balance sculptures were standing tall, defying those fierce winds. Without cement or tape or anything -- honest, I'm not lying -- there they were rising above all that white.
How did they do it? Maybe they were making a statement: Nice try blizzard, but we are, you know, ART. You come and go; we don't. We are for the ages.
Naturally, for me, this storm was an invitation to go out and play as I did last year
and year after year before that. At its height on Tuesday, I put on boots and layers of clothing and went out to enjoy it while sane people hunkered down in their homes watching nonstop, impending doom TV coverage.
I pushed open my snow-packed front door and stepped onto a snow-piled front porch shown in the photo above. Wow, I thought as I waded through nearly waist-high snow on my front walk, deep!
The wind was ferocious. It was whipping fallen snow everywhere making it difficult to see. The house directly across the street was but a hazy outline. And man was it cold! By the time I got to the street, my face was freezing.
Hey, I thought, this is not fun. I went back into the house and hunkered down for the rest of the day. For me, this was history-making: the first big snowstorm that I didn't go right out and play in.
However, the next day, I did -- and it was wonderful, with natural beauty everywhere. With no traffic except for snowplows and most people staying inside except for hardy souls here and there out shoveling. I pretty much had the streets to myself.
Yes! Playtime! Following are photos of day-after-blizzard scenes that caught my eye.
|First stop, Donut Cafe, a short walk from my place. When the snow comes, the staff know they will see me, the crazy old guy. I came in expecting to see staff, such as Lisa, who have worked there for years. Instead, the staff was all new and spoke a foreign language.|
It turned out that four months before, an Albanian family had bought the place. The mom took orders while one of her sons worked the grill. Nothing stays the same. However, I did ask for and got the VIP table by the window.
|A guy out on a stroll? "Nice day," I said. "Yeah, great day for a walk," he replied. I wasn't the only nutcake out there. |
|I came across only one woman walker. She happened to be walking by when I was taking a photo of this fellow I had stopped to chat with. "Can I take a photo of the two of you?" I asked her. "Sure," she said instantly.|
Above is the photo. After taking it, I said to the guy, "Look at you, having your picture taken with a pretty girl. How lucky can a guy be?" We all laughed. The guy went back to snow blowing. The pretty girl and I walked off -- er, separately.
The only other human beings I came across on my post-blizzard stroll were working to get out from under piles of snow. Here are photos of these folks who, unlike me, are responsible adults taking the aftermath of the great blizzard of 2015 seriously.
|Is this an ominous, end-of-the-world sky or what? Well, that's what the sky looked like around noontime during my stroll on the day after the Great Blizzard of 2015. Did it scare moi? No way. I enjoyed every minute of my two-hour winter wonderland adventure.|
And to prove it, last and least, here is a selfie of a smirking, self-satisfied guy. It is my first-ever selfie. And I just know that everybody out there will be calling for more -- I wish.
So long and keep moving.
P.S. You've seen photos of people shoveling themselves out and you've probably done it yourself. I didn't shovel? Right. But I have an excuse: my left hip, severe artheoarthritis. So how could I do all that walking, for a couple of hours? Pain killer. That's my only explanation. But I'll learn more on Feb. 10 when I see the orthopedic surgeon at Mass General who replaced both of my knees with great results. It could be a good story. I see a heading something like "I am Bionic Man: What Are You Doing With Those Silly Human Limbs?"
Lucky for me, a good friend and neighbor, aware of my hip issue, warned me not to shovel and snowblowed my place. Thank you, Tom!
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