This is the third week in a row it has snowed a lot at least once a week. The weather man carefully predicted another morning of a quick moving storm that would dump 5 – 8 inches of snow then move out of the area by noon or so.
Sure enough when I opened the door to walk to the bus there was about four or five inches of new fallen snow. I had wrapped my scarf inside my coat, zipped up and put on the little used hood. As I walked the short distance to the bus stop the snow pic-pic-picked at my hood like a wood pecker finding a place to roost. At five in the morning the neighborhood is so quiet only the sound of falling snow can be heard.
I found my spot in the street to wait as there was still three foot mounds of plowed ice and snow piled by the stop. I situated myself in the direction so that the wind would blow to my back instead of my face.
It reminded me of a snowy blizzardy day when I was a little girl about 6. I walked a little over half a mile to and from the four room red brick school house that held grades 1 through eight. It was one of the worst storms ever and I was walking hunched over trying to make it back to our home. We had probably been let out of school early and my parents didn’t know I was walking. No cell phone in those days. This was a deserted dirt road miles from the town of Greeley with only a few farm houses every quarter mile. In those days there were no high tech coats, boots or gloves. As I recall, little girls wore dresses to school every day. I probably had a thin wool coat some hand knit mittens and a scarf or hat. That was about it.
As I was challenged by the elements, a rickety pick-up truck drove up beside me. An old guy opened his passenger side door and said, “Git in I’ll take you home.” Boy I didn’t know this guy from the man in the moon. He kept insisting and I kept to my position that was drilled into me to not take rides or talk to strangers. He drove off disappearing quickly into the storm. I made it home through the same perseverance that has followed me my whole life. I’m sure hot cocoa was waiting for me along with some dry clothes.
The next day after school, my Dad mentioned that encounter with the guy in the pick-up to me. He asked why I hadn’t taken a ride home with the neighbor, who he knew very well. I explained I didn’t know him and reminded my Dad of the rules about strangers.
My brother Alan remembers a bad Colorado blizzard in 1949 when I was about three. He said the drifts were so high that the cows were able to walk over the six foot fence. He an my Dad had to shovel the snow by the fence to keep the cows in the corral. No wonder he lives in sunny California now.
Back to today. The sidewalks in downtown are just starting to be cleared off by the early maintenance crews. People are bundled with extra long scarves wrapped a couple times around their necks. They have hats and hoods for double protection along with boots of all sorts. This morning Colorado is looking like we live in Alaska. I’m sure the sun will be out tomorrow.