Thursday morning was cold enough for the roads to reveal winter’s battery of salt and ice. It was still early; the sun peeked meekly through the treetops, and I stood silently in the foyer, waiting for my ride to Mt. Sunapee. The building made its usual house noises: a heater kicking on, a creak, an end-of-sleep exhale.
I peered out the small window next to the door and watched a couple shuffle out of their house, across the street. The woman crossed towards me as the man carefully backed the car out of the ice-laden driveway. He paused for a man and son, taking the sidewalk route to school. Once the car was completely across the road and into our driveway, the man got out, and the woman got in to drive away.
We deal with winter in whatever ways we can.