I was driving across country just before New Year's and woke up just west of Lincoln, NE before dawn and decided to continue on before sunrise. Somewhere between Lincoln and Hastings I found myself cruising in a dense fog (or should I say the densest fog I can describe) at about fifteen miles an hour on I-80. A few trucks with fog lights were breezing past at a speedy twenty-five but most everyone was poking along- not tempting the blankness of the early morning. Textureless freezing fog on a flat stretch of highway - about as pleasant as you can imagine. I had my dogs with me so I was content to continue the trek. I think I made it past Hastings before it started to clear with the sun rising behind me in the east.
The aftermath of the lifting blanket were evident immediately. Tire tracks zig zagged across the highway medians and several trailered campers (which happened to mirror my mode of transport on this trip) had gone awry and ended up tipped over at various degrees of, "ouch, that looks expensive." I didn't read about any severe injuries later that day so I believe everyone just kind of drove off the road at low speeds in the mysterious darkness.
And then, the sun...
From New Hampshire to mid-Nebraska, I'm pretty sure I only saw it once prior - a fleeting peek-a-boo from the type of absurd cloud cover that only occurs over the Great Lakes region in winter. I think I was in Ohio?
But there it was, reminding me that blue skies ahead were the best lighthouse to drive towards. Soon enough, I'd catch a glimpse of the Great Plains giving rise to the great Rockies and I could feel that winter sun drawing me in.
Apricity (n): the pleasant warmth of the sun during winter, especially when experienced on a cold day
That. There is the word that embraces a feeling of the West nurturing you in way that can't be matched east of the Mississippi. You either don't see the sun for months or the humidity has so deeply soaked into your bones that no burning gas ball in any solar system is strong enough to penetrate it until late spring. Clearly, I have strong opinions on this but the deeper story is one of appreciation.
Next time it's cloudy (for even six minutes seems likes the limit in Colorado), really take a minute to drink up the sun's rays and feel anything but complete and total appreciation for that sensation. Pleasantness hardly hits the right notes for me and as we hurtle through stardust this bleak midwinter, consider what our journey towards the sun inspires in you...
Flowers, anyone? | 
