In the aftermath of the snowstorm, walking to the Irish pub required overcoming a series of obstacles, or I’ll call them levels. Passing the first level meant figuring out how to walk up our street, which was buried in snow and doesn’t have sidewalks. We opted for the detour up a hill to the main road. Snow was up to the top of everyone’s car. We discovered that none of the commercial businesses had shoveled their sidewalks, and so, instead of walking in the middle of traffic, we found another side street and continued down a narrow lane. The sunset was an intense orange and very pretty on top of the snow. We made our way through the main business district of our suburb, where the parking lot had turned into a stationing area for contractors, and walked through the grocery store, down its escalator, and out through the parking garage. We’d made it to the bar, where we ordered fish and chips: very salty, tasting of the sea.

(Photo: The backyard, January 2016.)

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