Tuesday, March 24, 2015
Tuesday's Reflection: Spring Snow
I'm in the car. I've been in the car since 8:00 this morning, and it is now 6:00 Sunday evening. We are returning from a trip to Nebraska to see the sandhill cranes as they refuel for their trip from Mexico and Texas to points north (Note: Thursday's post will be about seeing the cranes.) We, my husband Bruce, granddaughter Maren and myself, should have been home by now, but we are in the middle of a spring snowstorm, and we are slogging along the highway.
Normally, I view snow as magical, but today, not so much. Each day we were in Kearney, Nebraska, the temps were in the 70's. Maren wore shorts, and we all relished walking nature center trails in the warmth of the sun. This morning I blithely checked the weather forecast of St Paul. 30's and SNOW!
Last week at home we had been so sure spring had arrived. Get out the sandals! Take the dirty coats to the dry cleaners. I had almost removed the small shovel from the back of the car before starting our road trip, but my wiser, older, more jaded self said, "Nope."
As we drove through Iowa today I noticed how fluffy the trees were getting. Frothy with impending spring. Iowa seems beyond the in-between, the transitional stage of winter to spring and actually to be in spring. But I also noticed the temperature steadily dropping. Quickly. Before crossing the Iowa - Minnesota border we filled the car with gas, and I spotted a car at the opposite pump wet with slush. We knew what was ahead.
Almost the minute we passed the "Welcome to Minnesota" sign, the snow hit. Ice slicks the highway. Cars dot the white ditches. Red lights of highway patrol and tow trucks flash through the white. I am grateful Bruce is at the wheel. Granddaughter Maren has her headsets on, and she listens to her playlist while sending her friends pictures of the grey, snow-filled skies.
My job is to stay calm and breathe.
My book is on my lap and I read, but I stop every few lines to note where we are in case we need to call AAA. Before returning to the book, I focus on slow, even breathing, breathing in Bruce's stress and breathing out calm and ease.
Slow, but steady we get closer to home.
We have had an easy winter. I'm not whining about this early spring snowstorm. Really, I'm not. Winter is not over till its over. We know that about Midwestern winters, but I would prefer being home, instead of going home.
I think once again about what our Grandson Peter said on a miserably cold night recently, when I said I was hungry, tired and cold. He replied, "GrandNan, at least we're not sick or dead. (See http://clearingthespace.blogspot.com/2015/03/tuesdays-reflection-spring-almost.html )
Ah yes. And so we creep along, but we are fine, and we will get home. Later than planned, but home, and in the meantime I breathe and send prayers of safety to the cars and trucks who are just as eager to reach their destinations.
May all be well.
Stop right now and breathe and send prayers of safety to someone, known or unknown, who could use thoughts of well-being. How does doing that make you feel? I would love to know.