Years and years from now a child will say, “Remember how Dad and Mom built a snowman with us that first winter we were in America?”
Over 22 inches of wet snow piled up on rooftops and tree branches in NYC, creating lovely layered scenes. The wind howled and pushed snow against our apartment screens. It piled up on window ledges until we could hardly see out.
The snow has ended. The sun wants to shine. I pulled on boots for a walk about the neighborhood. Some restaurants are open. Some stores are closed. Some sidewalks are cleared. Many aren’t. A dad and small girl worked at digging out their vehicle, but most remain entombed. I saw a paid crew make quick work of shoveling off the neighbor’s steps, drive, and sidewalk. (Laurence says Elmhurst Hospital is hiring people to clear snow at $30 an hour.)
Overheard: “This will be for the hair, James.” The woman carried a few wispy branches.
“Hair? Why does a snowman have hair?”
“This snowman will have hair!”
It looks like a snowman competition in the playground near here. There are monster snowmen, big snowmen, medium snowmen, and small snowmen. Some wear a cap. Others have a scarf. They have pointy ears, stick noses, and one had an open mouth with a snowball inside. Some snowmen sit with legs bent over the bench edge. I saw a couple snowcats. The snowmen were being built with snow shovels, a sled, bare and gloved hands.
A little child climbed into a snow house that someone created in the playground. People posed nonchalantly against the snow scenes for their families back in India, Mexico, the Philippines, or any of the other 112+ nations represented here.
Five Asian women and a man shoveled furiously to make a space for tomorrow morning’s dance workout. There were a couple small snow hills for sliding on. The playground echoed with snowball fights and laughter.
I do not hear any planes taking off from LGA. Laurence is at work. He said very few patients came in, but the doctors did. They were mostly doing virtual visits.
I’ve put my Keen sandals away and taken out my snowboots. It’s winter in Elmhurst. Berniece
An Ordinary Life 