The Entrance to our Narnia

snowstorm in the park

The beginning of an 18 inch snowfall. Click image for larger view.

I live in the burbs of DC but on Saturday, like Lucy Pevensie in The Chronicles of Narnia I opened my closet door, I mean my front door to see this scene as the beginnings of what was to become an 18 inch snowfall unfolded before me. You might remember I took a similar photograph when I woke up to dense fog on Thanksgiving morning.

I love the snow (as long as I’m sitting by a roaring fire in a Swiss chalet). What I don’t like is shoveling our walkways and driveway, especially now with my unreliable back. Luckily, my children are growing into the most wonderful shovelers a father could have. (And let me not forget my wife who was their able assistant crew leader.)

Yesterday I decided to venture out late in the day to the drugstore for a few supplies. Our car had been moved to the edge of our driveway early in the storm. Why shovel any more than we had to. And the girls had dug the rest of the way out. Even though our side street had yet to be plowed, it looked like I could ease my way to the main road. As I tried to turn out of the driveway I lightly tapped the edge of a snow bank across the street, my signal to turn and move forward. Except I didn’t move forward: my tires spinning in a useless effort. I was stuck right in the middle of the street blocking all who wanted to pass. With the help of a growing assembly of neighbors (nothing like a little excitement when you’re snowed in) we pushed the front of the car back enough for me to turn and move back into the driveway. My trip to the store was jettisoned.

As I stood there surveying the scene I saw a tractor with a snowplow coming down the street. He stopped and asked if I needed help. Being the cynical suburban I asked “How much?” “Oh, $15 should do it,” he replied. He could see the skepticism clearly written all over my forehead and added with a smile “How much did you think I’d ask?” Within five minutes the whole driveway was clear and those same neighbors were lining up to contract his services.

Our winter wonderland bordered the entrance to Narnia. The snowplow was driven by our Aslan, the true leader of this enchanted land. And I became a true believer.

Jeff
jeffgates@outlook.com
5 Comments
  • Ivan Pope
    Posted at 09:38h, 21 December

    From someone who has been spinning his tyres for four days on the tarmac street outside our house (can’t move the two feet to get onto the flat road with my little front wheel drive car), I just love your view. And your very own snowplough!

  • Nina
    Posted at 10:17h, 21 December

    Good photo, good price and hey, don’t you know about “bouncing” a car out of stuck? Tsk, Tsk. What a deprived childhood in all that California sunshine 🙂

  • Dona
    Posted at 11:41h, 21 December

    That’s lovely, Jeff. I guess you are standing with the lamppost at your back.
    Did you purposely misspell Aslan? I mean was the plow driver from a country in Asia?
    My parents have a lake house in Northern Wisconsin. To get to their house one needs to drive about half a mile along a gravel road through a dense forest. Several side gravel roads branch from the main one. One of them leads to a mansion (which I have never seen, but have heard about). At the entrance near the main gravel road are iron gates with a Narnia-type lamp post nearby. I hope to be there during the winter in a snowstorm to snap a photo or two of the lamp post in the middle of the Wisconsin wood.

  • Jeff
    Posted at 12:04h, 21 December

    Nina, yes, I know about bouncing and so do my neighbors. That’s what we did first, to no avail.
    Dona, I didn’t purposely misspell Aslan. That’s what I get for writing a blog post early in the morning. The typo has been fixed, thanks.
    And Ivan. Poor Ivan. I feel your pain. Actually, since I just got in from digging my car out of the snow (my wife’s was freed by our Aslan yesterday) I really do feel your pain. 😉

  • carolyn
    Posted at 16:54h, 21 December

    The stuff we get here in the L.A. area is a LOT easier to “shovel.” Not as beautiful, perhaps, but still easier to shovel. Stay warm!