MobileMe gallery is here.
The result of a major snowstorm is expressed in major piles of snow.
We measure by people left in the dark, bent fenders, branches snapped, ice dams and guys in big trucks, moving snow.
I got off work around 9:30. It had been a good, long day with a surprisingly large part of the moderate crowd being interested in buying computers. Stocking up for the storm, I suppose.
We had closed the store having polished the screens of all the devices, restocked and "fronted" all the stuff hanging from the pegs. Our conversation had ranged wide, covering our histories - funny stories, recipes that defined our families.
Everything from fry bread made by my mother to curried chicken by my musical colleague PLB's wife. Pizza from M's mom.
We left the Mall chatting like seagulls, our voices echoing off the walls, muffled by the piles of snow dried by the frigid air.Mrs. Beadle was parked by herself in the middle of the back lot, all alone amongst mountains of snow, mountains reaching up for almost a full story.
I was removing the covering towel from the window when I heard large noises, made by large engines.
A bulldozer roared by me, scraping the snow from its path. It pulled up to the snowpile, the load bucket rising gracefully to the top and emptying out.
It then pulled back, roared off back to the next place and another pulled around to repeat the process.
I had my camera with me and took some time to set it up - I had to throw out only half the shots taken.
I tried to wave at the drivers but they seemed much more intent on getting stuff moved.
As a community we all get along in such trying weather by the good work and effort - the professionalism - of many people. Roads are opened, power lines repaired, groceries sold, sidewalks are cleared.
It's kind of neat to see this happening.
At the same time, like a lot of men, we're still sort of little boys, still fascinated by trains, trucks and large machines.
Take a look at some of the pics in the MobileMe gallery.
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