Snowrise

It was the type of snow that made noise when it fell. Not the insistent rattle of falling rain that coursed through every nook and cranny, ensuring that all was sufficiently wet. This was a soft tick, easily ignored unless you really listened for it. The rest of the sound outside was muffled, as snow is want to do when it throws its blanket across everything. 

Michael watched it fall through the front window of his living room. Good packin snow, his father would have said, leaving off the g because of laziness or upbringing Michael would never know. He glanced away from the window over to the front door seeing the boots he bought to go for walks in the snow lay there accusingly. Michael had bought them in a fit of self-improvement, convinced that if he had the right footwear he would actually use them. The boots had been worn a few times, enough to get them broken in and feeling good, had seen a few snows, and then had been abandoned. 

Well, if I was ever going to do it, today is the day, Michael thought to himself. He glanced back out the window, it was mid afternoon but it looked like early evening because of the cloud cover and the falling snow. It was quiet out there, nothing much moving around, Ok let’s do this, he thought and moved away from the window to go find some socks.

Not too cold, this is a big plus, Michael thought as he stood outside his front door, booted and suited for a walk in the snow. If I don’t wander too far I might shovel the walk when I get back, before he caught himself, don’t get too far ahead of yourself chief, let’s just see how the walk goes first. His therapist insisted that getting up and moving around would make Michael feel better. Michael was sure that this was true, but it was so much easier to give in to inertia and just not do anything. Because if he didn’t do anything, he wouldn’t feel anything, and that was the safest place to be. 

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, Michael thought. He knew it was an Eastern philosopher or religious leader that the quote was attributed to, but the name escaped him at the moment. He put one foot in front of the other and heard the satisfying muffled crunch of snow under his foot. That’s one small step for man, Neil Armstrong, Michael thought, he knew that one. Ok, enough of that, this is not a walk of quotes Michael admonished himself, he had specifically left his headphones in the house so he could hear the tick tick of the snow fall and the crunch of progress under his boots.

Down the walk and to the end of the driveway, Michael stopped, left or right, right, he decided. If he went left and was planning on walking around his block he would have to walk up the big hill near the end of his walk, head right and he could walk down the hill first and avoid the trudge at the end. In my day we had to walk uphill in the snow both ways…Oh my God! With the quotes. Michael knew he should have brought his headphones. 

Heading right was a good choice, the snow that had fallen to the ground was not deep enough to be slick, so the walk down the hill did not burn his thighs while he kept his balance. Once Michael had gotten to the bottom of the hill he glanced back to the top of the hill which he did every time he took this walk, which was not nearly enough. It was helpful to him to see his progress, even if it was just a little. This time he stopped walking altogether as he looked at the top of the hill. There was no sign of his footprints in the snow from his trek down the hill. 

Michael frowned, “What the..” He muttered, not finishing the thought. He looked down at his feet. They were firmly planted on the ground in the snow. Michael picked up one foot, put it back down and heard the reassuring crunch of the snow under his boot. He picked his boot back up again and looked under it at the snow. There was the boot print, its distinct waffle pattern plain as day outlined in the pure white. Michael looked up the hill again, no boot prints. It wasn’t snowing that hard to cover my steps that quickly, he reasoned. He took a few steps forward past the bottom of the hill and spun back around to see if his footprints were there. To Michael’s growing concern there were none. 

“Ok” Michael said to himself. His own voice sounding flat in the falling snow. “What?” Um walk over, he thought to himself. He started back up the hill and towards his house, with each step there was the familiar crunch of snow underfoot, but when Michael would look back there were no footprints. The beginning of panic was crawling up the back of Michael’s scalp under his hat. His hands started shaking. What the hell is going on? Where are my footprints?

Michael reached the top of the hill and could see his house halfway down the street. This kept the crawling panic somewhat at bay. Just get back to the house, he thought to himself, then I can figure this out. As he walked onward toward the house he began to drag his left foot through the gathering snow to create a line. Michael turned his head to see the line he was making with his foot. No line. No footprints, Nothing. Just pure fallen snow, as if no one or nothing had just walked by. He turned all the way around and began to walk backwards through the snow, he could hear the crunch, feel it under his foot. And yet it made absolutely no mark in the pristine blanket of snow.

Michael reached the front door of his house in a stunted, loping run. He turned around to see what marks he had made in the snow during his mad dash to the front door, and of course there were none. Now his whole body was shaking. What is going on, what is going on, just kept running through his head. His whole body was shaking at this point, so much so that he had trouble getting the door open. Michael finally swung the door open and half fell into the house, he pushed the door shut with his back and leaned against it breathing heavily. He didn’t want to look through window in the door but knew he had no choice. He turned his head and now the almost familiar sight awaited him, pure pristine, undisturbed snow blanketed everything. His walk, his run to his house, his struggle on the porch with the door, there was no sign. 

“Ok, it’s ok, it’s ok,” Michael kept repeating to himself. He was hyperventilating and he knew it, but it was a runaway train and he was now just along for the ride. The falling snow became louder and louder in his ears. Tick tick tick tick tick, he started seeing stars, his vision narrowed to a tunnel like view of his front entrance. Tick, tick, tick, tick, was the last thing he heard before everything went dark.

It was the type of snow that made noise when it fell. Michael watched it fall through the front window of his living room. He glanced away from the window over to the front door seeing the boots he bought to go for walks in the snow lay there accusingly.

Well, if I was ever going to do it, today is the day, Michael thought to himself. He glanced back out the window, it was mid afternoon but it looked like early evening because of the cloud cover and the falling snow. It was quiet out there, nothing much moving around, Ok let’s do this, he thought and moved away from the window to go find some socks.