It was Friday evening, the weekend just beginning, and I was feeling great.
Most of my friends had been talking about their plans to go to the St. Patrick's Day parade,
But I would be skiing down the beautiful slopes of Stowe, Vermont--what could possibly go astray?
We had been driving for several hours and had an hour to go before reaching our destination.
All had been going smoothly, especially the weather, but then there was a drastic transformation.
As if out of nowhere, we drove into a blinding, frightening snow squall;
The highway and the air were blanketed in white; our car slowed to a crawl.
The night sky was dark as could be--no light pollution up in scenic Vermont.
Very few cars surrounded us on the road, so it was impossible to act nonchalant.
Looking out through the front windshield, we could see only the swift-moving snow,
But my brother and I soon realized we could see our surroundings from the side windows.
As my dad maintained control of the vehicle, the rest of us guided him by what we could see--
How far we were from the shoulder, what the signs said, and if we felt comfortable with our speed.
Luckily we also were able to slowly follow the leadership of another car on the road,
Who was courageous enough to brave the storm and pave his way through, however slowed.
Soon enough we were on local streets, and the terrifying snow squall had ceased.
I could finally relax my tense muscles; my fear of an accident significantly decreased.
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