news 12 long island

War against Elements

Ice was coming down hard, landing in the soft blanket of mushy snow.

“Twenty degrees,” says weatherman Rich Hoffman from News 12 Long Island. “Better bundle up and avoid traveling.” I wouldn’t listen to him. Usually, weather people are wrong; they say the weather is one thing when it’s really the other. Guess Mother Nature doesn’t like it when humans are right.

But I wasn’t going to let snow, sleet, or even rain stop me. It was time to prepare: With pulled up sweatpants, two long-sleeved shirts, a sweatshirt on top, and two pairs of socks snuggling my feet, I knew I was going to beat the freezing weather. I needed more to protect me, however. It was then I placed my double-socked feet into my chestnut brown boots and tied the laces tight. Next, I swung my coal black coat around and pushed my arms through the sleeves before zipping up. Matching gloves shielded my bare-skinned hands. A black Nike hat stayed firmly on my head as I covered my ears with a pair of blood red earmuffs to protect them from the elements. There was one thing left to do; wrap my grey scarf around my face and pull it up to my nose. Now, I was ready.

Opening the door, I placed my foot outside, taking a big step onto the mush with a resonated crunch. As I brought my body outside, the hailing ice began to pelt me. Next to me, the royal blue snow shovel laid comfortably against the covered barbeque. I was quick to snatch it and get straight to work. All it took was a stab to the white blanket and drag the shovel across, pushing the mush to the side. The mush didn’t want to be moved, thought, for it put up a fight, weighing me down with heavier weight as it accumulated. This was war against the mush, against the freezing air, and against the ice! I did not falter, nor did I surrender. I wasn’t going to just because Mother Nature was claiming her dominance. She would try and stop me.

I kept pushing along, taking the mush with me until I lifted my shovelful to the edge of where the grass and pavement met, and repeated this process until I’ve cleared the way. Mother Nature tried her best to keep me at bay, sending her tiny, frozen bombs to slow me down. Her effects have nothing on me; for my coat reflects the pellets and my hat shields my head; I was well-protected and prepared. But, another element was fighting me, obscuring my vision by half: My breath, which caused hints of fog to cover my glasses, spreading until they spanned the entire squares. Everything was hard to see, but wasn’t impossible.

I continued to shovel until finally, most of the mush had been cleared. Finding a job well done, I retraced my path and stepped onto the porch, stamping my feet against the wood before going through the door. After walking into the warm presence of the living room, it was time to strip my heat armor.

Throwing my coat, hat, scarf, gloves, and earmuffs onto the loveseat, I plop onto the sofa next to it and immediately untie my boots. Tossing my footwear with the other things, I kick my feet up onto the glass table and relax to celebrate a job well done. I then pick up the remote and tune in to News 12, where it’s Rich Hoffman speaking again.

“A massive winter warning is in effect,” he says. “We have another storm on the way, and it looks like the snow will build up to another four to eight inches, folks!”

I knew I only had won a battle, but my war is not yet over.