Today I had the most incredible experience! I was moving swiftly forward down a narrow corridor, white walls extending high on either side, music sounding in my ears over a low rumbling hum. Ahead of me was a light. I drew inexorably forward toward the light, hoping to make it there, hoping, hoping—
Then it turned red, and I had to stop. Oh well.
You see, here in Angeltown, we’ve had far, far more snow than we normally get at this time of year, and it’s stayed cold between snow storms, so nothing has melted. And over time, it’s added up: eight inches here, four inches there, twelve inches next, two inches of ice–and there’s nowhere to put it all any longer!
On most of the major roadways, the snow plows have done their best to clear the pavement, but that leaves us with tall white walls on either side of the road. At intersections, you cannot see around the corners.
In essence, we’re driving in a labyrinth.
My Patient Husband, who has done the yeoman’s bulk of the driveway-clearing, tells me there’s a layer-cake effect going on out in our yard: a layer of snow, over a layer of dirt, over a layer of ice, over more snow, and so on down until you hit the frozen earth.
We’re looking at a few days of 40-degrees-plus, and what that’s good from a melting perspective, it’s less good from a visibility perspective. Because before those walls of snow get shorter, they’ll sublime straight into the air and cloud all of Angeltown with fog. So now, even if I could see around the corners, I couldn’t see anyhow.
Has this stopped me from driving? Not really, neither me nor the other tens of thousands of residents here. We’re hearty rugged versitile individuals, and since we’ve all remembered how to drive in snow, we now know we’re invulnerable. Can’t see? Not a problem. Can’t stop? We’ll do okay. Can’t start again after we’ve finally stopped? Eh.
Whenever it comes time to drive, I need to ask myself a question: do I need the better handlability of the Civic, or the height of the mini-van so I can see where I’m going?