After the storm

Thinking about “after the storm” got me thinking about “before the storm.” You see the newscasts. The meteorologists are all excited: “There’s a big one on the way,” they say. This one was even being referred to as “a bomb.” Seems it was going to explode right over southern New England. Possibility of one to two feet of snow in the Boston area!

So you have to prepare. Fill up the gas tank in the car. Fill up the 2.5 gallon plastic gas can for the snowblower. Go get groceries for four days. It’s not crowded yet at Whole Foods, but there’s a buzz there, the check-out clerks bracing themselves for the mass of folks who’ll converge on the store before the storm hits. Don’t forget some cookies. Don’t have to worry about bread since we can walk to Clear Flour bakery to get fresh baguettes during the storm—they’re always open.

You find yourself looking ahead, then looking forward to the storm. You might as well, you can’t wish it away. It’s on it’s way. What will happen? Trying to gauge impact in advance. Am I forgetting something? Candles? Batteries? They’re talking about one to two feet! Will that really happen? Or does it disappoint. Any surprises? Like getting up at 6 a.m. to see how much snow has fallen, to see if I need to get out right away or if I can wait a little while (no sense in going if it’s still snowing real hard. But will probably have to go twice anyway.) Then looking out the window toward the street with its streetlights which I use to gauge how hard the snow is falling and then the whole sky lights up as if God has just taken a flash photo and a moment later–thunder. Thunder! At 6 a.m. in the middle of snowstorm. Wonderful! Made it all worthwhile.

[Photo credit: Annette Lemieux]

“After the Storm” photos @Flickr

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