No question—the driveway had to be cleared.
Both of us had commitments in town, so the foot of snow had to be dealt with. I was outside digging at 4 a.m., illuminated by a full moon and clear sky. It took two hours.
After our daughter moved to Colorado, I would run on the lake trail by moonlight. It was a bit crazy, but I never turned an ankle or fell. It seemed necessary to get five miles in before work at the office, just as snow removal by moonlight was necessary yesterday. Moonlight activities have turned from recreation to mandates in the life we now live.
Not that the scooping was without therapy. Yet an unwelcome tick tock accompanied me as the deadline to depart for the warehouse approached.
The moon set as I finished the second third of the 80-foot driveway. Turning the car around, headlights replaced inconstant moon while spreading sand on the snow-packed gravel that connects our property to the rest of society. Didn’t want either of us to get stuck there.
During my Climate Reality training in Chicago, Al Gore that pointed out something that should have been obvious: in the morning, people pick up their mobile phones and catch a few swipes before turning on the lights. While doing so this morning, I found this:
“Apps, gadgets, hearts, likes. Taps, clicks, swipes, screens. These numb us with comfortable titillation. They thwart us from dreaming the unimaginable. They make us altogether too sensible to ever pursue of the unreasonable.”
While living by moonlight may be necessary, we should do it less sensibly from time to time. There is a chance to transcend la vie quotidian to effect change in a turbulent world. In fact, that may be why we are here.