We've shovelled ourselves out of mountains of snow, and expecting far more to blanket our near environment before the week is out.  It was ever thus, and no one is ever prepared quite, to deal with it all.  And there is plenty of it, this year as every year.

It came down, a thick veil of white fluff, continually yesterday.  No sense clearing it away until it has exhausted itself and moved on.  So the strategy is to wait until the snow has almost finished its blanketing of everything that lay beneath the chenille-fluffed sky, and yesterday after snow tumbling down throughout the night and into the day, that time did not arrive until just before dinnertime.

But in the wee hours of the morning, around one o'clock, the municipal plough finally came by and it did its job, clearing the street.  Late, because there are so many thoroughfares that rate a high priority, unlike a quiet, backwater street like ours.  And it is just our luck, as well, that our house is located precisely at the far curve of the street as it does its u-turn, and we are gifted with a hip-high bank of snow.

Except it isn't just snow.  Depending on the humidity level it is compressed to almost-ice conditions, comprised of great, heavy disks and rough boulders of snow.  That require maximum effort to lift and shovel away.  My husband knows if he leaves it all for morning, descending temperatures will make the mess practically immovable, so he went out after one and shovelled it all out then. 

Declining to use the mechanical snow thrower in respect of the hour and our neighbours' sensibilities.