I’ve lived in this same area all my life. I’ve made the same commute back and forth to work every day for the past three years. I should know this area like the back of my hand . . . and I probably take the view for granted.
Not today, though. Because of the warm temperatures we had yesterday and the fact that we still have a lot of snow on the ground, we had some major fog this morning. Visibility was 0.0 miles. Yes, that’s right. I couldn’t see a thing. To make it even more fun, it was a freezing fog. That just means that the air temperature was below 32 degrees so the moisture in the air froze to everything. The trees. The car. The sidewalks. The road. Black ice everywhere.
After my trip to the vet with Blacky during a snowstorm on Saturday morning, I felt brave and left the house this morning confident that I could make it to work in one piece. I made it to work in one piece alright. Didn’t slide off the road. Didn’t fall down in the parking lot. Got the crap scared out of me when the other cars were zipping past me at 60 miles an hour when I was only going 50.
But the thing that made the trip really interesting was the fact that I had absolutely no idea where I was. I could see a little bit of the road ahead of me. I could see the stoplights in plenty of time to stop. I could see the highway signs in plenty of time to make my exits. But I couldn’t see any of the stuff I normally see on my way to work. The sod farm. The water treatment plant. The trucking terminal. The Children’s Hospital at the exit I take to get to the office. If it wasn’t right on the side of the road, I couldn’t see it. It was like all my usual landmarks had disappeared. . . .
Just a very strange way to start the day.