|Posted on February 12, 2019 at 3:05 PM|
The polar vortex is still huffing and puffing in our direction. The worst is over, despite the promises that we'd be buried under ice this morning.
Last night, rain hit the window in pellets, freezing solid in an icy braille. This morning, cars looked like sno-cones, and we swept the slush off in crinkling sheets.
I live in an unfortunate area lined with strip malls and traffic. And on a day like today, there was a lot of the latter. Drivers inched along for fear of slipping.
We tend to obsess about the weather here, fascinated by the abrupt changes. The roads were de-iced by the friction of hundreds of tires, leaving little to fret about.
Until I reached work, I didn't notice the beauty behind this perceived treacherousness. Overnight, the trees had turned to glass. The entire campus is an ice forest, solid-white honey locusts dangling right outside my window.