During the winter at 5:30 am, I make out a low rumbling sound that has come to be a comforting one in my small world. Its distinct sound builds up to a roar the closer it gets. Our snowplow driver is making his first round of the morning in preparation for the school bus run in less than an hour. It’s my automatic alarm clock for getting out of bed and starting my day.
Our property is on a corner, and the plow stops there, backs up before turning around for another run. He doesn’t have much room to maneuver and on one side there is a deep gully. Once a newbie driver slipped into the "hole" and he had to be pulled out by a tow truck later in the morning. I warn visitors coming to the crest of the hill for the first time in snowy weather that when they turn the corner, stay closer to the center of the road.
The snowplow’s headlights reflect off my bedroom walls in patterned dark lines as the deep-throated rumble of the engine gains speed. The driver is off to do the next set of roads further into the hills. “The higher elevations” is the term meteorologists use to describe the locations like ours where extra portions of snow accumulate on a regular basis. Often my cat will perk his ears at the sound and hover closer on the golden quilt knowing full well that he is free of worry inside with us.
I will close in saying that I am grateful for the snowplow driver and all that he does to keep the roads safe and usable. It’s a most appreciated service in our neck of the woods.