29 January 2010 - The Snow Covered Hill

Winter driving and my son was in the back seat. Before me was the largest hill I've ever seen, covered in snow and in front of me another car brave enough to attempt the climb. I thought, "I'm going to be all right, the car has snow tires on."

We went up and up.

Niggles of doubt played in my stomach as the car slipped and then slipped again, but each time only slightly, only ever enough to keep an edge of anxiety in my stomach. It seemed a long way to come only to have to turn and go back down if it turned out that the challenge was as steep as the snow covered hill. The farther I went, the steeper it got and the more the snow caused the car to tires to slip. But the car would only skid slightly and I kept a deft touch on the steering wheel and accelerator, coaxing the car ever higher to the top of the hill.

I was going to make it ... inside a long building with which I used to be familiar ... where the passageways were almost like avenues and I was headed here, slightly to the left where I would continue around the corner to who-knows-where, pushing a hard-shelled red suitcase before me, rolling on its little wheels to the counter which was blocked. But familiar as I was to this place and it to me, I went under the yellow tape and behind the counter because it led to where I was going, only to find the way blocked by ... a white wall? Concrete? A young man in his twenties who stood behind the counter (an employee) told me that the way had changed and I couldn't get through this was any more. So pushing the suitcase in front of me, I retreated back the way I came, frustrated over this waste of time to a door which opened on a long set of downward facing stairs.

Art by Susan Kurts