Yesterday was bright and wet here. The sun came out, the sky turned blue, and all the snow started to melt. Everything was sloppy and sparkly, a real treat. Usually I hate to see the snow melt because I love the look of a winter wonderland. But it was so pretty outside yesterday that I didn't mind. Today we were back to the grey, grey skies of southwestern Pennsylvania. If you don't live here you may not know this, but we have a lot of overcast days. I think everyone I know has a Vitamin D deficiency.
On Friday, I found myself in the middle of a total whiteout. I've never driven in such strange conditions. The snow was coming down so fast that everything was white: the ground, the air, the sky. The road was covered and there were no visible car tracks. Visibility was so low that I couldn't see a school bus coming toward me in the other lane until it was almost upon me. For part of my trip, I saw no other vehicles. I felt like I was totally alone in the world. It was very strange, like something out of a Sci-Fi movie.
With everything in the same shade of white, I started to lose my bearings. At several points I literally didn't know where the road stopped and the abutting hillside began. It was like being in a shaken-up snowglobe. This sensation triggered my claustrophobia. I felt trapped in the big wide open. Maybe that kind of fear all comes down to a loss of control.
The whiteout was a good physical incarnation of how I've been feeling for the past few weeks. I'm in the middle of a large project that I care about very much. I was working furiously to meet deadlines last week. I was immersed. I was in it, you know? I could barely tell which way was up for a few days.
Things aren't quite so frantic now, but the project isn't done yet. I have my bearings now, so if it gets crazy again, I think I'll just pull over for a few minutes and enjoy the beauty of it all until the storm passes.