I moved my living room chair for the winter. I now sit across from the little wood stove. This gives me a higher and wider view of the street and houses in front of me. Previously, the chair provided maximum bird viewing.

From my new perch, I see people driving to work at the Assisted Living center down the block. Just now a guy drove the other direction, towing his ice-fishing house.  I also see neighbor’s vehicles warming up before they drive off to work. At one house, two large pick-up trucks idle in the driveway for 20 minutes or more, with lights on. They look futuristic to me, warm and lighted, waiting on the tarmac for clearance to an unknown galaxy far, far away. Who goes out there in the frigid darkness every morning to start-up the vehicles, anyway? Zombies?

Nothing that exciting.  I learn that many people in the northlands have remote control start buttons. From inside their cozy home, with that first cup of steaming coffee in the other hand, the humans aim a remote control and the vehicle roars to life. When they leave for work, the vehicle is toasty, the windows defrosted, and the seats warmed. Not a bad way to start the day. Many people up here also plug in regular cars overnight to keep the battery charged.

I usually run out just before I need to leave, then sit shivering in the driver’s seat while the van warms up. I open and close the side windows quickly to clear that snow so I can get a side view of oncoming cars.I run the wipers and pray the snow will fly off rather than brush the snow and chip the ice from the windshield. If that doesn’t work, I wait for a small opening to appear where the defroster hits and hope for the best as I zoom off. If I am lucky, the brakes on my two-wheel drive vehicle don’t start crunching and the van won’t slide when I come to the first stop sign. If I am double lucky, I can move forward again without the back wheels spinning out. I am still low tech in terms of vehicles! When I must go out, I have learned the great art of mooching a ride.

The world outside my window is a light gray now and the zombie vehicles are long gone. I am still in front of the wood stove heater, drinking my second cup of coffee. I don’t have seat warmers or remote control start, but I work from my home office all cozy and warm. I am grateful as I reflect on all those years of commuting in large cities.