March 13, 2003
My calendar says the first day of spring is a week from today, but there’s no hint of it outside today. Or if there is a hint of it, I can’t see it because it’s buried under the two to four inches of snow that fell just in time to mess with my drive to work this morning. Since the freeway portion of my drive averaged around 20 miles an hour, I had plenty of time to appreciate the “slow down when roads are snow covered” message on the changeable signs mounted on some of the overpasses. Once I got onto the surface streets, I reached speeds as high as 35 miles an hour, which was as fast as I felt safe going in the very sloppy and slippery conditions, even with the four-wheel drive. If I’d tried to take the Mustang, I’d probably still be on the road trying to get to the office, or worse, off the road and into a ditch or median. Today, the balance in my love-hate relationship with winter has tipped well over to the non-love side.
Though now when I look out the window, I see sunshine– rather blinding sunshine, actually, given that it’s got all that white snow to reflect off of– and by Saturday, it supposed to get into the mid-50’s (that’s degrees Fahrenheit, and I’ll take them, because 55 sounds much warmer to me than 15, but I suppose if I’d grown up with Celsius, 55 would sound too hot to survive). So I guess I can put up with one or two more slow and slippery commutes, since I know they’re almost over for another season.
W is for Winter