Thursday, March 3, 2016

Meditation while shoveling

My few days break from shoveling is over and I accomplished it in three sections with long breaks in-between. The back is sore, the shoulders too, but not as bad, at least not yet.

There have been small snow flurries but nothing substantial as yet, but dark clouds are beginning to gather again this afternoon and we're still on storm watch.

Three hours after I finished clearing the snow from the driveway the latest storm hit in full force. The visibility is almost zero over the mountains. Within twenty minutes the driveway was no longer visible but again blended into the white hills siding it, an inch of soft, damp, heavy snow fell in the first half hour.

It was not a deterrent to the birds or an ambitious squirrel who came to the front deck to raid the bird feeder. The street has again disappeared from view and a lone bird cries into the void, breaking the silence.

The absence of stars is noticeable, and no moon can be seen to announce nightfall, only lights of random houses appearing out of the mist.

I watch the darkness close in leaving only shadows, window lights, and the soft white snow steadily falling and building drifts higher with each layer of flakes.

I know that the morning holds more shoveling, but I have come to accept it as good meditation time when I clear my mind and yet have an acute awareness of all the beauty around me, of the activity of the birds, squirrels, and that the wind create even as I move snow a shovel full at a time.

It strengthens me spiritually as well as physically, and I feel close to the Creator of all things, including snow. I realize the blessings it brings and that without it there would be drought.

That I am privileged indeed to live in an area of such natural beauty, of open spaces, forests, and God's creatures and that where there is privilege there is also responsibility. I do my little part by clearing and praying, by appreciation and thanksgiving, by hard work and deep awareness. Thank you God.