The Moose and the Deep snow

It was March.  The snows had covered the ground entirely since early October in Anchorage and I looked forward to the warming weather of Spring coming around the corner.  But March tends to tease inhabitants of south central Alaska, especially those of us who are new to the area, as I had been at the time.

Typically March stays cold.  15 to 20 degrees Fahrenheit on the average. In the evening before St. Patrick's Day, I had put the kids to bed and was settling into my own evening tasks before I too would go to bed.  I heard something outside and went out onto my snowy deck to investigate.  There, across the street, a moose cow was aggravated.  Upset.  She was snorting, tramping and totally agitated.  She seemed to be taking her bad mood out on a lone tree in the yard.  She went on her tirade for several moments circling the tree several times, then disappeared into the darkness between two houses.

I thought, "Well that was interesting!".  I went back into the house to finish cleaning the kitchen and getting ready for bed.  At around 11 p.m., I went to close the drapes when I noticed it was snowing.  It is Anchorage, and it is March. Snowing wasn't uncommon.

What was uncommon was the next morning.  I awoke to 24 inches of new snow. My 4 foot fence in the side yard was completely buried.  The cars in the driveway looked more like mogul bumps than vehicles.  The snow had completely blanketed the city of Anchorage shutting her down for two days while the plows tried to get the roads clear again.  Businesses didn't open.  Schools were closed.  Only medical, fire and police were required to venture out onto the roads to get to work.

So, I unburied my Suburban and drove my wife to work.  Her minivan would not be able to circumnavigate the deep snow on the roads.  Traveling was slow at best, and in some places bumpy.  We passed a Chevy truck that had somehow broken an axle in the process. 

After I deposited my wife to work, I made the same trip back.  When I got to my unplowed street, I discovered someone in his front wheel drive Nissan had gotten stuck in front of my house.  I got out to help push him out.  Then my friend the moose cow emerged. She ran up to our vehicles and circled us and ran back up the road.  I wondered if she had missed her mental health appointment and was off her meds.

The rest of March was basically clearing the driveway one shovelful at a time.  The kids dug snow caves big enough for me to fit into. April remained fully snowy and the "snow dumps" where they plows take excess snow could still see mountains of snows there in July.  Easter, the snow beside my porch was still taller than my daughter. And eventually in May, we'd see the ground again.