Chalk Lines

Snow fell overnight in Detroit Sunday evening into Monday morning, our first measurable snowfall of the season.  Oh joy, oh rapture. I do hope you heard that in the sarcastic voice intended.

Around 7 AM I set out to clear the steps and the cars. There was nothing to shovel from the concrete walks but the wooden steps were cold enough for the little white flakes to stay where they fell. The same thing with the metal cars. Light, fluffy snow had to be brushed from them.

Three or so hours later as I returned home from a couple local trips, I saw exactly where our three vehicles had been. The snow lines from the brushing appeared just like police chalk lines around a murder victim.

I almost took photos of the car outlines like a police photographer might. I could have been a detective saying, "Yes. Ma'am, that's right where we found your husband. Pretty big guy, eh?" Only a detective wouldn't actually say that. At least, he wouldn't have offered an opinion on the husband's girth to his grieving widow. I don't think so anyway.