Good Neighbors

“Something there is that doesn’t love a wall …”

Robert Frost

We live in a good neighborhood. I feel qualified to say that because we’ve lived in all kinds of neighborhoods over the years, and this one stands out for the way people look out for each other.

We get a lot of snow here in the winter, on the shores of the Great Salt Lake, and that means pushing around a lot of snow over the course of a single winter. Lately it’s become a kind of race to see who gets out there first. If you’re too slow, the neighbors are likely to beat you to it.

You’d think that would provide a powerful incentive to put off going out, but in reality it works the opposite way: I try to run outside as quick as I can to avoid the embarrassment of having my neighbors shovel the walks of this perfectly able-bodied thirty-something. (Okay, my neighbors feel sorry for me because I’m too cheap to buy a snow blower, but it’s still embarrassing.) Despite my best efforts, however, the neighbors routinely beat me to it. Last month it was Paul Dowding, last week, Randy Ford, then Taalon Huber.

Yesterday, I got out real quick, but had shoveled for just a few minutes before Dan Wight stopped by in his pickup with a big bladed shovel on the front. In two runs and about 30 seconds, he’d cleared 90% of our driveway. So, me and five year-old Mary, my self-appointed snow shovel assistant, headed over to the neighbors, figuring that we better play it forward in the spirit of grateful neighborliness.

After shoveling for a few minutes, Mary looked up at me. “We’re looking for the good, Daddy!” she exclaimed, parroting a family motto, “Helping people is fun.”

(Photo courtesy of MNKiteman on Flickr; this and other snow shoveling art available at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/84853337@N00/404081264/.)