Walking in a Winter Wonderland

Walking in a Winter Wonderland ... because the car broke down

So March starts off with a bang - a big, white bang of a snowfall. The biggest we've seen here in a long time. Not anything that would impress anyone from the real snowbelt, but big for Virginia. For Valerie and the boys decisions about what to do are easy - when your life revolves around school, someone else does the decision-making. School's closed - stay home. For me, things are a little more complicated. I'm usually pretty hard-core about making it into work. I've got a calendar full of meetings. On top of all that, I've got an appointment to bring my car into the shop on the way to work.

So, at 7:45 I set out so I can get to the shop at opening time. It's only about a mile from the house, but it turns out to be a crazy drive. Even the main roads are slick like crazy. I get to an intersection where I want to turn left, but the car just keeps going straight. Oh, boy. Fortunately, the roads are empty and so I safely slide to a stop about 50 feet past the intersection. From there I inch the rest of the way to the shop. The shop is open, but none of the mechanics have made it in yet. I leave the car but decide to go home rather than press on to work.

The walk home is amazing. There's a walking trail through a small park that connects to the bike trail that runs near my house. I do the whole walk home through parkland. It's still snowing. It's bitter cold, but I'm bundled up top to bottom. It's white, it's beautiful. It feels more like the Sierra Nevadas than Arlington. A few dog walkers are out, along with a few dedicated souls trudging to the Metro stop. We greet each other heartily.

It takes me about 30 minutes to walk home. I arrive home exhilarated. Another cup of coffee, light a fire in the fireplace, power up the laptop. One by one, my meetings get cancelled and disappear off the calendar. I have a pretty productive day by the fire.

I love March snow. All the fun, knowing full well that it's Winter's last gasp.

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