Winter Reminiscing
Long-etched in my memory, there was a time, anyway, I chased a girlfriend up to North Austin, and wound up in an apartment that was over a drug den and backed up to a church-school playing field. Gently sloping, usually green, some afternoons there were little kids running, screaming, playing soccer, I don’t know. Sort of distant, but it also offered an illusion of being next to a large field.
In particular, one November, there was the usual Arctic blast, and there was that field, a vision of pure, white light, virgin snow, stretching for — seemed like — miles. I wrote about being up to my ass in fresh powder, with more northern clients asking how many feet.
“Damn near three-quarters of an inch!”
Doesn’t take much to paralyze us.
Winter Reminiscing
The point I was trying to make, though, seems I’ve already covered this:
Canadian Air and Texas (US) History.
So there is the real story, with citations.
There was one other image, and I can’t’ seem to locate it. But at the time, I lived in Dallas, and the weather bumper included an image of one of the big, biggest at the time, highway exchange. Six lanes, in one direction, and the overpass itself was sheeted with ice. Just a thin glaze, like a donut.
The image, and the warning, just as cars approached that line, the point where the ice started on the bridged pavement? Taillights would flare, drivers slamming on their brakes, and then ensuing chaos.
Vehicles spinning like tops.
Winter Reminiscing
I still struggle with nascent PTSD-like conditions from the big freeze. No power and no water for three days.
So far, so good.
I’m really not a fan of cold weather.
There’s a reason I like The Creamation of Sam McGee.
