The Non Blizzard

Dearest Rachel –

I woke up to something other than pitch blackness this morning, which I take as a good sign. Lately, I haven’t been regularly getting my full eight hours, despite my best attempts, and I’m not exactly sure why. Not that you were ever concerned about getting that many hours at a time yourself, but you know that I would actually try more often than not. So seeing light first thing in the morning struck me as promising; at least, as long as I hadn’t any commitments I was inadvertently sleeping through (which I rarely do any more; it’s why I allow myself to wake up organically these days, although I’m usually still up around six regardless).

However, as the morning wore on, it seemed to grow darker outside (and, by extension, within the house, since I hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights to go about my morning routine, in part so as not to wake Daniel up). By the time I was finished with breakfast, the gray overcast outside was looking positively threatening. But the day had to begin regardless, and I had to grab a baseball cap (to keep my glasses from getting messed up) in order to head out into what proved to be a minor rainstorm.

There’s nothing particularly picturesque about taking to a rainy road. Its borders are lined with gutters, dark and slightly reflective with standing water (which, now that I think about it, leaves me questioning the point of gutters – aren’t they supposed to direct the water to the nearest drain?) In some cases, the water even coats the street, reflecting the light from lampposts above it (the only real source of light, as the sun is only alluded to through the clouds). And this is all when one can see through the spotting on the windshield – which is probably an indication I should use my intermittent wipers more frequently, but I don’t like the squeak as they go across the glass when there’s too little water to wipe off.

It would be much more beautiful – to say nothing of how more expected it would be, at this time of year – for this precipitation to be in the form of snow, gently falling over the roads and traffic, covering the ugly gray of the scene in brilliant white. The barren trees would be laden with clumps of snow along the length of their branches, occasionally dropping their burden on the sidewalk and street below in a puff of smoky powder. The ground, spread with a coat of white, would reflect the little light that seeped in through the clouds and amplify it in a way that the current situation couldn’t possibly do, offering a much cheerier scene… at least on the surface.

The problem is, all that beauty comes at a price. As you know, every inch of rain equals as many as ten inches of snow. So while what I’m driving through this morning is a minor inconvenience, were the temperatures low enough to change its form, this could well become a major headache. A light rain translates into a blizzard in fairly short order (and even more so than just the conversion of volume, since colder air can’t hold as much water, so more would fall on us because of that, making things that much worse), and as the streets become slick with snow, the possibility of traction-related accidents increases.

And certainly not just for me, as my travels today are short and purely elective, but for everyone who still has to go about their business on this day (granted, as business days – especially Mondays – go, this one will be lighter than others, being the MLK holiday – ironic that we in America, the first nation to never have a monarchy, have a holiday honoring a King nevertheless). For drivers like us, it is far better to deal with the ugly nuisance of rain than the downright dangerous beauty of a blizzard.

I’m not sure that there’s any particular moral to be taken from any of these observations, honey – which is better, relative safety and ugliness, or relative beauty with a dangerous edge beneath it? There is probably no right answer; it all depends on what you want to do with it. Someone staying at home – or even someone traveling to engage in winter sports – would have preferred the snow, while those of us who only go out to get from one place to another are (should we take the time to reflect upon it) grateful that it’s a drizzle rather than a blizzard.

Still, keep an eye on me when I have to make my way home, and wish me luck. I’m still going to need it.