The Drive Home

Yesterday was not a good day to be on the road. I was almost to Ripley when the slowing traffic warned me of trouble ahead. The car that rolled on the icy road looks nothing like a car--if you click the photo to enlarge, you will see its flattened form against the bank on the right. I offered prayers but like last week, it did not look good for the occupants of that vehicle.

I snapped this photo as I sat in traffic waiting for the wreck to be cleared. We were there for almost an hour, so I took a photo or two to kill time. I liked the monotones of the gate, snow and sky.

Finally on Joe's Run and it wasn't in great shape either, although the sand truck had run so it wasn't as bad as it might have been.

Which way to go at the forks? Either way takes me home. I opted for the right fork, avoiding the hill that can be tricky in weather like this.

A horse ambled up to see where I was going as I passed Dan and Belvie's homeplace. Darkness was falling fast, and I wanted to get home, but I couldn't resist taking his picture.

Belvie's wash house--the root cellar is underneath it. She used to make her apple butter out front of it in her big 30-gallon kettle. She is the one who taught me how to make it, as well as how to make green tomato mincemeat, sausage, lard, and lots of other things. Belvie had all nine of her children at home; that lady was a worker, too, taking care of the farm while Dan worked away "on the roads" for the state roads. Now she lives in a mobile home near one of her sons. I have not seen her in a long time, and when I took this photo I knew I needed to get over to visit her. I have missed having her as a neighbor.

And at last I was on the ridge as the last rays of the sun color the sky. I turned into the driveway thankful that the drive had been a safe one for me, still worried about the people in the wrecked car, and knowing that while the drive is long and often treacherous in winter, I am blessed with beauty everywhere I look.