Winter Watch

It began snowing and sleeting during the night and by 5am we were in a southern wonderland with snow covering the whole landscape and still falling. The black dog charged out into the yard like a runaway train while the small brown one whined pitifully, giving me her most aggrieved look with each hesitant step. I hurried through the morning routine, not knowing if there was ice under the layer of snow on the car or how much time it might take to get on the road. It was very still and eerily quiet with no signs of life beyond the hazy porch lights on the houses and the occasional snap of a snow weighted branch. I hated to admit it but there was a certain beauty to it, an early morning serenity of sorts. I could hear the sleet whispering and imagined that the very air was breathing in and out, pleased with what it had accomplished in so short a time. Nature does go its own way as resolute and determined as a virus, setting the pace for the seasons and directing their progress with a stern and steady hand, reporting if at all, only to God. It's a reminder of how insignificant and powerless we really are, of how much time and energy we waste with worry and ambition and negative thinking, trying to change, improve or alter that which is immutable. We know this of weather yet often fail to recognize it in living.

I got on the road with snow still falling. To my surprise, the vehicular daredevils were nowhere to be seen and not a single soul was driving over a cautious 25mph or crowding each other. Everyone's headlights were on and the commute was uneventful, a passing nod of respect to the travel conditions and the rules of winter driving - leave yourself extra time, slow down, always steer into rather that away from a skid, watch where you're going - these were the rules my daddy taught me about driving in snow and they could just as easily be applied to every day living. Rushing here and there over hidden ice is treacherous.

By noon, the snow had stopped but there was no sun and everything was white and crunchy with only patches of slush. I came home much the way I had left, amazed at the accumulation and staying power of the snow. In all the years I have lived in the south, I couldn't remember a single instance of snow lasting more than a few hours. The city was for all practical purposes closed - no school, businesses locked and dark, parking lots deserted and mostly covered with a thin sheen of ice. Long, graceful and wicked looking icicles hung from trees and eaves and traffic lights, branches were bent, some nearly to the snow covered ground. The cold was an assault on the senses and I found myself wanting nothing more than to be at home under cover and warm.

Not all days are meant to be good - if they were, we would have nothing to be grateful for and no cause to celebrate the warm moments.

Drive carefully - it's all about the journey.