Degrees in One

“What’ the temp say?”

“One!”

“One? You mean like one degree?”

“Yep! One!”

“Well, the car must be off its rocker, ‘cuz it doesn’t feel like one!”

Just then we pass the United School sign, surrounded by snow, with its temperature discovery posted.

“That said three degrees!”

I contemplate the universe for a few seconds; the Husband keeps glancing blank-faced at the temperature gauge.

“Well, I guess I don’t know what one degree feels like, then, do I?”

“Me neither! It still says one!”

TR

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A Mountain Drive

Driving uphill on a winding two-lane road, I was the head of a small convoy of cars, people going as a group to do something exciting like base jumping. We’d been told by a man at the motel that this particular two-lane road led to a breathtaking view of the Grand Teton mountain range, and it wouldn’t be far to go, and it was well worth the detour. I drove ahead of everybody, in my new Toyota Camry, gray-brown SE. October early snow patches lay everywhere. There were absolutely no signs telling drivers anything about a viewpoint or dangerous curves, so I just kept driving at a reasonably safe speed.

I noticed a beautiful area plot on the left that could make a nice homestead with a view, and as I followed the road on a curve to the right, thinking about what it would take to build a house there, I abruptly found myself on a dead-end, turnabout-circle, black top area, iced over. There were several men apparently working around the edge of the circle, without tools or vehicles. As my car slipped forward, I gazed at the cliff that seemed to magnetically pull me to its thin strip of grassy edge. The Camry slid sideways in slow motion, while I struggled to unlatch my seatbelt and get the door open so I could jump out. The men looked up and tried to wave me off, without themselves stepping onto the icy black top. I could hear them shouting, but obviously, too late. I saw no fencing at all, of any kind,  fixed on the cliff edge to keep even a cow from going over. I tried to open my door, but I was already at the edge, seat belt still holding me in, and a sinking feeling of despair sucked my stomach into a heavy knot. Strangely, I was able to notice something like a nature-made piton right on the edge of the precipice and thought that if I could grab that and get pulled out of the car…but it all happened so fast that I had no time before my car and I sailed out over the cliff edge, sailing, lowering, into a deep, deep mountainous chasm stretched far underneath.

With a sharp start, I woke up in my bed, slightly sweating, heart palpitating. I slid out of the covers and sat on the edge, thinking, “Okay, that was some you-gotta-wake-up-dream to have!” I walked to the bathroom, did my duty, drank some water, and timidly returned to bed. My husband was sound asleep. Hoping that dream was a thing of the past, I gently rolled onto my side, and fell asleep.

Driving uphill on a winding two-lane road, I was the head of a small convoy of cars, people going as a group to do something exciting like base jumping. We’d been told by a man at the motel that this particular two-lane road led to a breathtaking view of the Grand Teton mountain range, and it wouldn’t be far to go, and it was well worth the detour…

(This was a real nightmare that occurred midnight morning on October 28, 2014. It might have something to do with the precipices I’m facing right now in life—the coming loss of my parents (within the next year), the change in jobs, moving to a part of the country I’ve never lived in before with new scenery, history, climate, and adventures, saying goodbye to friends…when I told my little sister this morning, she said, “Sounds like you’re excited to go to the new place, because it seems promising…You’re going uphill because it’s been a struggle…Snow patches represent the obstacles along the way… Your convoy is your truck and car….I’ll be back after lunch and finish,” leaving me without the rest of her analyzation!)

The Ghost of Interstate 70, Indiana

At 80 mph high wind velocity it sped

floating recklessly back and forth between

all three crowded lanes. The Mad Semi

haunted crowded Indiana west Interstate 70 this

morning in its totally white, ghost-like presence

(except for black tires). I thought it was a real

ghost, but other drivers had to use their

brakes when it cut in front of them. It

apparently could not float through

vehicles, but it still sent chills through all, as we

wondered if the fingers of Death pointed our way

TR

One Morning, Traveling East to Dodge

Drove into the morning, where a huge rainbow had stood the evening before

Now a splendid, eye-dazzling display of the sun glows

behind glossy, lacy, thin, calligraphy clouds that

shimmer with silver, gold, orange, yellow, white, blue, and gray

fleecing across the white sun, over the baby blue sky, while

a colorful train moves in to join me on my left for a short time

A magnificent, soul-inspiring ride, then

I realized that absolutely everything in this existence is temporary

the rainbow from last night, trains, clouds, pain, storms, good health, loved ones, enemies, beauty and ugly; the sun and moon even move around, disappear

all just glimpses, tantalizing or terrifying, of permanent, future places

like the tantalizing, dazzling samples of an eternal heaven—breathtaking beauty in nature, in people, in actions, in feelings, in thought, in emotions—all things that reasoning people desire: wonder and happiness

like the terrifying, alarming samples of an eternal hell—soul-sucking pain in nature, in people, in actions, in feelings, in thoughts, in emotions—all things that reasoning people shun: horror and misery

Oh, see what a morning drive toward a hospital can stir up

August 28, 2015, Thursday

TR

One Evening, Traveling West to Meade

Drove home from a long day with a loved one in the hospital

Punched through a thunder storm’s heavy rain into sunlight

and a minute later, checked traffic in the rearview mirror

Surprised by a brilliant, wide, rainbow leg beaming at me

Excited, glanced into the side mirror and saw the leg sloping left

Breathlessly and briefly, peeked over my shoulder

Sure enough, it solidly stood, blazing against the dark storm backdrop

a huge, thick, perfect, beautiful, richly-colored rainbow

Stole five minutes of peekings

until it faded into the clouds, leaving its arch

in my smile and its glow in my eyes

A peace-promise from God in the middle of chaos

August 27, 2014, Wednesday

Heartbreak Highway

 

“I raised him from an eggling!” screamed the distraught momma bird as the car unintentionally ran over her flapping youngling on the highway.

“Why were they on the highway?” cried the distraught driver.

TR