The frozen north
Here we are in late autumn, and Boston is socked in.
Doesn’t look so deep here, but this is in the middle of active plowing. Out front of the restaurant there’s a guy shoveling – by the time he got to the end of the sidewalk, a quarter-inch of fresh snow had fallen on the part he did first. That would mean we’re getting four inches an hour. There’s certainly four inches sitting on the roads unplowed.
I left the office at 1 today trying to make sure I got home for dinner. It took two hours to go twenty miles. When traffic completely stopped – three cycles at a stoplight without any movement on the other side of the light – I got off the road for lunch. Two hours later I tried to go head home, but here I am, at Flatbread in Burlington, after a mile or two of the scariest driving I’ve ever done.
