I’m thankful for truck drivers who drive at a steady pace on the interstate highways, so strings of cars can follow in their tracks through the sloppy snow. I am also thankful for road-graders. But most of all, I am thankful that I survived a white-knuckled drive through a snowstorm and arrived safely at my destination.

Morning in my childhood home.

The whitish area at the top of the shot is ice forming. The darker area is slush. You can see trails through the slush where ducks meandered eastward.

Losing my drive…

…in winter, that is!

It takes a practice to drive in snow, sleet, and ice. This winter being so mild, I’ve been out of practice. I didn’t realize how much until Friday, when I drove to my parents’ house. Snow was coming down lightly, but the roads were clear.

As usual, I was using the Driving Like an Old Lady Technique, a skill that has made me a favorite among designated drivers and owners of sports cars.* Not to disclose all the secrets of this mysterious art, but suffice to say that it involves sticking to the left lanes. I get to my destination in a timely manner, but with 1/3 the road rage. Continue reading

The beauty of snow

Last night I fell asleep to the sound of rain and woke to same.  The forecast called for a chill to set in overnight and turn everything to ice. I was thankful that the cold held off. If it were snow, I’d be shoveling shin-deep piles.

But when I opened the blinds, I sighed over the ugliness of the view. From my office, I see past my oaks and into the wooded lot across the road. In the summer, it’s a wall of green. With the branches bare, it’s a look at the property owner’s collection of stuff. There’s a uncovered boat on a trailer (uncovered generally means “doesn’t run”), a rotting tent, a front loader that hasn’t moved since last year, and something that looks like a fallen stack of lumber.

Then the chill arrived. The rain streaking the windows turned to glittery beads and stripes. The snow is slowly burying the evidence of sloth and blurring the edges of the junk.