Dashing through No Snow

We were supposed to be in Portland Tuesday through Saturday. I was excited to be in town over a Thursday so that I could go to a contra dance. But as the weather reports came in, Tim and I texted from our respective workplaces over the wisdom of staying in town—whether leaving Friday morning (today) would be too late to avoid driving through a storm. So we made a dash for it. We had a quick early dinner at a Japanese-food-truck-turned-cozy-corner spot (where we wouldn’t feel deprived by not drinking but could still have amazing food) and checked out of the hotel around 6:15 pm to face a 4.5-or-so-hours drive home.

The skies were clear. The roads were dry. The crescent moon was setting. Dashing through no snow. Hard to believe it was on its way.

I was in bed by 11:30, I think. When I got up in the wee hours (to wee, of course), the snow had begun, heavy flakes visible by the streetlight.

Today we took our first x-country ski on the rail trail.

Tonight we are hunkering down.