Not afraid, thankful.

When I first moved to New York I was terrified of snowplows. I had a real fear. The enormous orange or yellow monsters that chewed up the snow and spewed out salt sent me running for the nearest snow bank. The lights, the double plows, the sound of metal scrapping pavement all made me cringe and want to stay inside cowering under my blankets. For a Georgia girl, a snowplow was an unknown beast. I hated driving behind them or beside them, scared that my car would be snowplow victim like the white ice it was consuming. The snowplow line on the thruway where snowplows united and formed a diagonal eating up every bit of snow they could find made me want to forget my trip and head the other direction.

Nine years later and two months into a West Virginia winter, my opinion of snowplows has greatly improved. After seven snow days and more two hour delays than I care to count, I have yet to see a snowplow meander through the hilly streets. I was informed the other day by a coworker that there are 12 snowplows in the county and only six drivers. Gone are the New York days, where the weather dips below freezing and an army or yellow orange descends on the streets. Gone are the days of washing off the salt caked to your car. Gone are the days where you pray for a snow day, but know you won't get one because it didn't snow three feet between 3 and 5 a.m. Gone are the days of running on the shoulder of the road in the winter, or running on the road much at all.

Welcome to Morgantown where it snows, melts, freezes, snows, melts, freezes, snows, melts, freezes... Welcome to a world without any snowplows. Welcome to a world where schools are closed for 1/2 inch of snow. Welcome to a world where drivers are paralyzed by the thought of a snowflake. Welcome to Morgantown where a snowplow is as elusive as Big Foot.

Tomorrow it is supposed to snow again--two inches. Perhaps I'll have a sighting of the thing I once feared. Instead of feeling afraid however, I'll breathe a sigh of relief and feel thankful.