So when I heard reports of snow, I ignored them.
I'm from Nebraska. Not that that's a reason, but jeesh, it snows here. Alot. And honestly, in what other business can you be so wrong so often and still get paid? I've said it before: if you don't like the weather here, wait a minute and it'll change.
Plus, I had a goal. I wanted to be proactive, business-like, johnny-on-the-spot and make a client happy for Christmas. So despite dire warnings of "potential significant amounts" of snow I hopped in my trusty vehicle and drove to my framer's place of business. That he lives in another town an hour away is significant.
As usual, the forecasters were wrong. We didn't get significant amounts of snow. ( I suppose "significant" depends on your point of view, doesn't it? If you're short, wearing heels, or hoping to try out your new Snow King sled the word "significant" takes on a certain meaning. )
What we got was ice. The few inches of snow that fell in huge flakes covering everything in a gorgeous coat of white melted on impact on the streets, and a short time later froze as the afternoon came to a close.
Not to worry, I made it home, but it took 2 hours of white-knuckle staring-at-the-car-in-front-of-me-driving to manage what would normally take me one hour of cruising-while-admiring-the-landscape driving. My steering wheel may still have grip marks.
©2011 Patricia Scarborough 9 x 12 pastel
Being Nebraska, the sun rose the next day on a landscape draped in stunning soft white with oh-so-blue shadows. I've forgotten joints stiff with tension and marvel at how much color there is in white snow.
Forecast for tomorrow: Blinding brilliance balanced by shocking cool hues in low lying areas. Warm tones in the foliage. Buckle up and drive safe.