Monday we awoke to seven something inches of snow, binding us to the homestead. The following day, there was more of the white stuff, just enough to mess up the roads, not enough to keep us home.
Then I got to Wednesday. I peered cautiously out my window. Cool, no more snow. Relief. Just to be sure, I did a little Reiki, calling on the higher powers to protect us during the day. Feeling better, I headed out into the world to start my workday.
I got in the car, turned it on, looked up and groaned. It's my fault, really, for complaining that a snow plow had not done any serious work on our street all week. There, in my apron, were ice boulders. There was no way Ella (yes, I named my car) or Little Blue (yes, I named my son's car) were going to make it over that hurdle.
Time for Girl Power! I could do this, yes I could.
I turned off the car and went back into the house to get the shovel. Coming down the back steps for the second time, my feet flew out from under me, and I went down the stairs on my back.
At this point, I looked heavenward and said, "Really? This is how you help me?"
Gingerly, I got up, did an inventory of the parts of my body that sustained the blows, and decided no real harm had been done. Off to the apron to shovel boulders.
A few moments into the procedure, a gentleman who lives across and down the street from us (whom I'd never met) came over and asked if I needed a hand. And proceeded to do half the work for me. We shoveled in silence, and I thanked him profusely. He was not a big talker, but he was a huge help, and I was very grateful.
I looked heavenward again. "Okay," said I. "I get it. Thanks."
After I put the shovel back in the house and headed down the steps for the third time, I looked over to the tree behind our house and saw a large bird sitting there. Intrigued, I first navigated the stairs safely, then walked over and looked up. I had a difficult time photographing him because it was very cloudy and grey that morning, but I think it might have been a falcon. We don't live far from the MetroParks, so that's probably where he lives when he's not hanging out in our backyard.
I had a moment with the bird of prey, who ignored me and continued pecking at the tree branch.
I'm not sure if he was some kind of omen or just a happy diversion that morning, but I thought it was cool having him around.*
And it did get me to thinking. A lot of people have questioned the existence of a higher power, given all that has been happening lately.
Maybe, like a good parent, the powers that be are saying, "You made this mess, now you clean it up."
Ah, there's the rub. What can one person do to make a difference?
I voted responsibly, signed petitions, did the march and made contributions to organizations that I believed could help. Still, the madness continues.
What else is a person supposed to do?
Maybe help a neighbor shovel her apron.
I don't know what my neighbor's political affiliations are. All I know is he was there when I needed him.
And maybe that's all any of us can do -- be there and lend a hand to each other as needed.
No, I'm not going to break out in a chorus of Kumbaya.
Although it will probably be playing in my head all day. And now yours, too.
You're welcome.
*Mr. Ginley, of course, believes it's some sort of Super Bowl prediction.
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