Wednesday, February 3, 2010
the perception and preparation for the wilds of mother nature vary based on geographic location. i know this. it still makes me shake my head when i see an area crippled by weather that in other parts of this very country, would be considered average daily snowfall. yet...flights are cancelled. there is not a loaf of bread, a carton of eggs, a gallon or milk, or a case of busch light in the can to be had in all of the piedmont. so it goes.
luckily, we have 60 year old tractors with flat blades on them to push off our driveway. big green john deere's with heated, enclosed cabs to scrape off the roadways near our home. plus, logging chains to hook to vehicles who seemingly just couldn't negotiate the 6-7 inches of snow at a reasonable speed to keep them between the lines. the tradition of the carolina crapshoot is captured as much in it's ability to be crippled by such weather, as it is in the bonding together of neighbor and friend to pull the same idiots out of the ditch that get stuck every time this happens.
the timing of this storm was uncanny. while the hustle and flow of my visitation and the business of my trip had already been laid to rest. there were lots of parts of the soul that needed tending to. collateral damage, if you will. i know the personal affect this loss had on me, and i was a generation removed. there were others to consider. folks in the south lean on each other a bit to heal. the extra 72 hours spent there due to flight cancellations were well spent. what these folks know is a hard thing to have to know. that, in itself, is part of the culture as well.