The snow began to fall downtown about one o'clock on Friday afternoon. I walked out of Second Story Books and saw a few flurries. By the time I had walked a few blocks, they were thicker, and they were quite thick by the time I got home. A truck was salting the side lane at Connecticut and K even before the snow fell. Workers were salting the walks beside apartment buildings here and there.
On Saturday afternoon, after I had cleared the walks, they looked like this
for about an inch more had fallen while I cleared the porches, the walks around the house, and so on.
This morning, 17th St. NW at Shepherd looked like this
Long ago it struck me that this is the way of snows: the beginning is beautiful, the end dreary. And everything just takes longer, which is hardly noticeable at first, but eventually tedious.
However, Friday through Tuesday were on the whole quite enjoyable. We had dinner with neighbors three consecutive nights, the last at our house. We took walks in the neighborhood, talked with neighbors, and watched their children play in the snow. We remembered to admire the alley onto Argyle Terrace that friends had shoveled out. We did without newspapers Saturday through Monday, yet somehow didn't manage to read that much more in books.