Notes from the edge of the storm

I wish I'd brought a camera this morning so I could show you the sky glowing pinkly above the frozen river, the river sparkling white except where patches of silvery water break through the ice, mottled sycamores lining the shores and releasing sudden showers of snowflakes from their branches. There's nothing prettier than our river valley after a thick snow.

It took me less than minute this morning to traverse the hill where I was stranded for half an hour Friday afternoon, although "stranded" isn't quite the right word. I pulled off the road voluntarily to wait for the traffic to thin before attempting the roller-coaster course down those snow-covered curves. If I must slide out of control down a steep hill, I'd rather not do it in bumper-to-bumper traffic. Eventually I joined the parade creeping at about five miles an hour down the hill and made it to the bottom with only a few sideways slides, thanks to the magic of antilock brakes.

That's my driveway, before it got plowed.

We had it pretty easy here compared to those further east: a few hours Friday afternoon when the snow fell so thickly the plows couldn't keep up, followed by a long, cold Saturday of staying off the roads (and playing in the snow). This morning I encountered just a few slippery spots on my little country road and none on the highway, but the streets in town are another story. Those historic brick streets might look picturesque, but they're hard to plow and it doesn't take much snow to make those bricks slick. 

Today begins the big thaw: temperatures will rise well above freezing and all that melting snow will have have to go somewhere. Here's hoping the temperature stays above freezing tonight so the runoff doesn't turn to ice.