Tuesday, January 4
Snowstorm 1.1
Anatomy of a snowstorm:
So far it's a whiff. Strike one. This winter storm was supposed to start overnight, but this morning there's very little sign of it except for the radio report saying the 25 degree current temp is likely the high of the day as it's only going down from here. Outside at 6 a.m., the ground is mostly dry. Later, at 7:30 when I go out to drive Connor to school (it's Tuesday, so Reade went to the high school earlier for orchestra practice), it's just starting to snow, little hard granules plinking my neck. Freezing fog, more or less. On the drive to school, the wind is up and there's walls and ripples of wind-driven snowy granules swooshing and swirling across the bare streets. Fun to watch. The wipers go now and then, but it's still barely coming down. After dropping off Connor, who walks slowly into school in his gym shorts and t-shirt with his teen-age invincibility, there's a tiny red car wrecked in a one-car head-on. Flashing lights. A thick-waisted cop. A guy in one of those brown one-piece insulated farmer guy suits. At work, I park in a pull through spot so later, if it does snow, I can scrape and pull out forward, a snow negotiating trick I've learned in my 14 years on the high plains. I've also learned that despite the predictions of four-to-eight inches, right now I have my doubts we'll get even an inch.
