We joke about how little snow there is in the morning based on the weather reports from the day before. It’s nothing more than a little rain where we are, though a tune in to the radio or news would have told us a different story.
North of us, the snow arrives and threatens to blanket the suburbs with a foot or so of fluff. At noon it reaches us.
A look out the window makes us scoff at the snow.
During the hour ride home I’m not scoffing anymore. I almost get stuck on a side road trying to move after letting a semi-truck complete a turn. My wheels spin in an icy depression and fail to push off. I wonder if I can reverse out, but there’s a speed bump behind my wheel and the accumulation on my windows (it falls that fast) stops me from trying.
This isn’t a day to drive miles to play a game. Instead I drive a few miles to wait for my wife at the train station.
I hope the snow delays the train long enough for a nap.