The Here and Now

Remember when you were very young and your mother imparted vast quantities of knowledge onto your little mind? Remember when she taught you things that you still think about?
Things like “fire is hot.”
And “don’t talk to strangers.”
And “eat your vegetables.”

These things are carried throughout life. You might not even acknowledge when they became part of your daily routine. You just know. It becomes old hat.
Simple habits.

One of these wonderful tidbits is the little hows and whys on the protocol for crossing streets.
You look left.
You look right.
You look left again.

Simple.
Discreet.
Logical.

Here in the arctic circle things take on a bit of a different process.
Don’t get me wrong, my town actually does have streets. We have cars that drive around. More dangerous are the snow-goes that drive fast and recklessly down every road.
And anywhere else with a bit of open earth.

When crossing the street, you still have to look both ways.
But.
And there’s always a but.

There are certain accessories that make it more than difficult to do the simple discreet glance over each shoulder. Specific thing that we all wear.
Down to your knees, thick and heavy, winter gear.
Complete with tunnel vision hoods.

You can’t turn your head.
Well, you can, but then you are just turning your head into the warm and fuzzy interior of your downlined parka.
Too look both ways you are forced to do a full body twist.
Feet included.

There is a little dance that’s down before stepping foot across the street.
Turn your body to your left.
Shuffle of the feet.
Turn your body to the right.
Shuffle of the feet.
Turn your body to the left again.
Shuffle of the feet.

Then turn your body center again.
Shuffle of the feet.

Finally, cross the street.

The road crossing jig.