shovelling snow - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing

Three seasons long the snow shovels would sit idly by in the garage, as useful as a baby-doll dress in Antarctica. Yet come those winter months with its metamorphic lullaby, when the landscape came full circle back to a new canvas, they were essential once more.

Upon that first day of winter it was such a wonderland; snowflakes fell as large as feathers wafting from grey cloud. Soon it was a pure white desert, from our doorstep to the roadway and beyond. And on that day I took to making a pathway in good spirits, snow shovel in hand. Roll on a few days later and my created pathway was banked up beyond shoulder height and the childish frisson of joy that had come with those first flakes had been replaced by a quiet resolve, a grown-up sense of duty.

Shovelling snow was a work out and one that barely needed a coat. Often times I'd simply wear a sweater, gloves and toque. Perhaps the first few moments felt chilly, watching the air from my lungs rise, but a few noisy scrapes upon the driveway and I was warm enough inside. Often times I'd catch glimpse of the new snow settling in my hair, or see the children at the window watching my progress from our warm home. There were times I'd dig it clean only to have to repeat it in an hour or two, but that's winter in Canada.

The snow shovelling wasn't only for the driveway, it was also for making jumps on our toboggan runs.