Shoveling doesn’t dent drifts in Arlington Hgts. driveway

Like most of you, the first thing I did when I woke up this morning was look out a window.

The effort, however, was unsuccessful. My bedroom windows were covered by snow that had drifted over night. Snow had even piled up in the narrow space between the screens and glass.

So I decided to rely on one of my other senses. I opened a window and listened to the sounds of The Great Blizzard of 2011.

There were none.

Not a bird cheeping, not a snowblower buzzing, not an optimistic motorists’ car engine revving.

There was complete silence. It was remarkable.

Eager to experience this silence firsthand, I threw on my winter outdoor gear, went downstairs to the garage and opened the overhead door. I was stunned by what I saw as the light poured in: Even though I had shoveled and used my snowblower twice last night, the snow on my driveway had drifted so much that it was as high as my car’s engine hood. It wasn’t that deep everywhere, but the drifts were even taller in some spots in front of my house.

The snowblower was useless against a foe like this; believe me, I tried. So I took out my shovel and started digging. I’ll admit the work was invigorating, but whatever benefits I felt were outweighed by the sheer futility of the labor. In the hour I was outside, I barely made a dent.

I was born and raised in New York, and I remember my parents telling me about the blizzard that hit that state in 1978. Somewhere there’s a photograph of me standing on a picnic table in my backyard during that storm, and the snow is as high as the tabletop.

Thinking of that image, I grabbed my camera and started snapping photos this morning. Someday, we’ll be telling our kids and grandkids about the blizzard of 2011.