Last year, we moved to a semi rural area which requires me to drive through three woody parks and over four one-lane bridges daily. Driving around the neighborhood, one might assume that a four wheel drive pick up truck (complete with gun rack) would be standard issue on move in day, but, one would be wrong. Thus, I was a tad concerned about the potential performance of my Chevy Cavalier in the off chance we would encounter snow. Luckily, I thought to myself, we only get like six inches of snow a year.
Then, it snowed. And snowed. And snowed. At one point, I measured 47 inches in my front yard. At one time. After the first 8 inch mini-storm (as it turned out), a co-worker said, "How was the commute?"
"Beautiful," I said. And it was. Sure, there was snow on the ground (the Chevy did fine, by the way), but it was so so pretty to see the fresh snow on all the trees. In my mind, totally worth a bit of shoveling and a slower pace on the roads. Though I have to admit...the shoveling eventually became less enjoyable.
Flash forward to twenty eleven. We finally got a bit o snow round these parts, and I drove through the first part as the sun came up:
Seriously, how could anyone ignore this beautious display of nature? Well, I couldn't....but I did ignore the snow covered roads a bit. Shortly after stopping in the middle of the road to snap a few pics, I sort of dazedly drove along, still marveling at all the pretty trees...and suddenly made an unintentional u-turn as I attempted to navigate a gentle curve.