By Maryanna Gabriel
"That's what winter is:
an excercise in remembering how to still yourself
then how to come pliantly back to life again."
- Ali Smith
Back home, videos of cars swishing helplessly confirmed the harsh condition was not local. It also validated why I felt terrified. Over decades of coastal living, I had adapted and survived winter driving by staying off the roads, mostly because of other drivers and the dangers they pose. I once watched a snowplow slide into a ditch from my sidestreet into a treacherous blind corner and that was enough for me. I was out.
My new environment astounds me. People clean off their cars and go to work, calm as you please. Streets are plowed and sanded. Everyone carries on. I thought for sure the garbage guys wouldn't come for my bear-bitten bin. But they did.
Scanning the news, I can see on the coast, schools closed, mail stopped, warnings to work from home posted, and power failures. Basically, travel is dangerous and difficult. So, I wasn't imagining things. It's just different. The snow is wetter by the sea, sloppier, and melts quickly. Cold weather is so intermittent that putting on snow tires is often considered not worth the cost.
Given my new life, I know snow tires are a necessity so these I do have. What I don't have is confidence. Eventually, needing supplies and with a break in the snowfall, I have dug out my car, and bravely exited from a precarious driveway only to steer, with my heart in my mouth, straight up a vertical incline. Better, I reasoned than the direct plummet down. To my great joy, the tires work, and a shop went splendidly. How many years has it been since I have driven in snow? I hate to think.
 |
| From my window. |