Relative Something

Cyndie’s home, and the squirrels are happy again!

We are just a week away from the vernal equinox and the precipitation has been in classic form for this period. Yesterday morning, I arose in the darkness of the 5 o’clock hour, and immediately perceived that something was happening outside.

I approached the door to the deck outside our bedroom and pulled the trigger on our powerful LED spotlight. Wowza!

It was coming down fast and furious, and there was already a couple of inches accumulated on the railing. I felt like I was in a Star Wars movie and we had just engaged the hyperdrive, with the blowing snow so intense, it was the only thing illuminated.

I was not aware that we might be getting snow, so wasn’t mentally prepared for this. My reaction was to hustle up and start my drive as early as possible, allowing plenty of time to arrive at work, and hopefully getting ahead of the majority of other people that were thinking the same thing as me.

I was the first person on the two roads closest to our house, and struggled to discern where the edges of the pavement were, with the “hyperdrive-effect” still wildly limiting visibility. When I finally reached the main road, I was happy to see two cars pass by, giving me a beacon to follow. It was one of those situations where I would have followed them right into the ditch, if they drove off the road.

We caught up to a long train of vehicles following one extremely cautious driver. It’s unfair that all of us behind this first driver were able to see pretty well, with our train of headlights, and were eager to speed up, yet that person had nothing but darkness and snowflakes out his windshield. Fortunately, it seemed as though everyone was sensitive to that driver’s plight, and we safely held positions and crept along together.

As roads got bigger, and traffic heavier, we passed several cars that had lost control and were now buried in the ditches. The snow continued to come down with incredible intensity. On the main expressway, I approached the first of many sets of flashing red and blue lights of an emergency vehicle that I would encounter on this trip. He was parked behind an 18-wheel tractor-trailer rig, and in front of that truck’s headlights rested a vehicle tipped up off its wheels, resting precariously on the driver’s side doors.

Farther on, an overhead sign flashed a warning of a crash in the tunnel: “expect delays.” I plotted my escape from the freeway, and exited downtown to navigate city streets in a route around the tunnel. It was an incredible ordeal to finally arrive at work.

Then, in the classic form of late-winter weather, which I referred to above, I departed the office in the afternoon under sunny skies and above-freezing temperatures. It always amazes me how quickly things change. Roads were almost all dry. Southern facing hills were clear of snow. All of the earlier accumulation of snow, and all the drama from the morning commute, were completely gone. The drive home was trouble-free.

It feels like spring can’t be far off.