When they canceled the buses and it appeared there was no way out of Uptown, I wish I could say I was not afraid. It is only in facing the indifferent challenge of the wild places of this world that a man finds his character, and I decided in that moment, "No. I will not die here, today, on Lyndale Ave."
My first task was to use the only resource at hand, the drifting, blowing snow that stung my eyes and soaked my clothes, and turn my direst enemy into my dearest friend. I knew the blustering north wind would allow me little time to find shelter, so working as quickly as I could I was able to fashion snow into crude bricks and build a wall against the wind, and brick by brick, curve that makeshift wall into an igloo. The dire nature of my situation allowed only a brief rest for my aching muscles and a well-deserved hot chocolate from Bob's, before I once again returned to carving out the tiniest niche of survival from the cruel winter sky.
It would have been too easy to succumb to the temptation to sink into that wet, white embrace of the snowbank upon which I'd built the igloo that was to be my new home but I simply had to waterproof it, and there was only way to do it. I simply had to find a seal. I don't know how long I waited behind the shrubs of that deserted lawn, hoping the white snow drifting over my shoulders would help me blend into the landscape, and cursing the passing cars that were almost certainly spooking the wildlife, until I finally saw it.
