Winter closes in on us again. Down from the north rolls a wall of cold bringing snow to places that never have snow and rain to an already saturated earth.
I worry about the far, backcountry Campo family and wonder how they are getting around. I worry about Beth and her long drives into campus, mom Ellie drives to her own far away campus, and dad Guy into El Cajon. That’s the commute from hell for all of them in this snow. Bee reports that freeze has reached the mountains around the Valley where she lives. She figures her fruit trees are gonners but is covering up the succulents closest to the house.
None of us are used to this. Except G, of course. Though most of his childhood years were spent in Pakistan, his high school years were spent on the high plains of Colorado nestled into the foothills of the Rockies. He can drive through anything.
Not me. I grew up in Chula Vista. It did have a beautiful view then but offers only roofs and freeways now. Snow once that I remember. Mother sent me out to break the ice in the birdbath. I have some small experience with snow and slush in Virginia and one stupid drive down Franconia Notch on black ice. My passengers were almost yelling at me, and now just thinking about the experience leaves me frightened by my stupidity.
Think of my youthful mindset multiplied by millions. Driving in Southern California the next few days will be very interesting.