I spent several days in sunny California when it was bitterly cold in Illinois. To be fair, it sprinkled one day in California. Barely. I’m not sure most Californians knew what to do when it rained. It seemed a bit like a rare phenomenon. The rest of us rolled with it. Back home, the lows were single digits. I was not going to complain about a little dampness.
A winter storm was about to slam the Midwest around the same time I was scheduled to get home. At first, I wondered if I’d get stuck in St. Louis, or if my connecting flight would get cancelled, but the storm kept getting pushed back a little at a time. I was glad, because if everything went smoothly, I’d get home around 10:30 pm, and still need to drive home an hour and a half in the dark. I don’t mind the adventures of travel. In fact, I typically enjoy them. But if we were going to get as much snow as they were predicting, I’d rather get stuck at home for the weekend than in a hotel in St. Louis. No offense to any hotel in St. Louis.
The original plan for my last day in California was to have brunch with family, who was staying a couple more days, then head to the airport but stop at a beach for an hour or two on my way. I thought about jumping on an earlier flight, but I didn’t see any good options. Even so, I decided to forego the beach. The Pacific is too cold anyway, and I wasn’t too enthusiastic about wrestling my luggage on sand then traveling with sand on me the rest of the day.
Since I arrived at the airport with plenty of spare time, just in case I had missed an alternate flight option, I asked an agent to check for an earlier flight. She found two. Both would arrive only one hour earlier than my original flight. One connected through Dallas (DFW). It was an instant no. I’ve had no issues with Love Field, but for some reason, DFW is usually filled with drama and delays for me. The other option connected through Denver, one of my favorite and most familiar airports. There was one seat left. One hour didn’t make much of a difference, but I said if she could upgrade my boarding position so I didn’t get stuck in the back of the plane and risk missing my connecting flight, I’d take it. She nodded and started working on her computer, then stopped. She slowly looked up and apologetically told me someone else grabbed the last ticket. I laughed. It was fine. Back to my original plan!
I was in a small airport with plenty of time before my first flight. I picked up a large fresh juice and settled in. I’d taken a lot of photos, so I started organizing them. I even had time to share the highlights with family who was still vacationing. After a little reading and a little writing, it was time to board. I could already see my second flight was delayed a bit, but so was the storm. I didn’t mind driving home later, as long as I wasn’t dealing with a blizzard in the dark.
By the time I settled into my car, it was 11:30 pm and -5°F. Actual temperature. I was thankful my car started immediately. Not everyone’s vehicle in the parking garage did. There were multiple service trucks scattered throughout the parking garage, helping people get their cold vehicles started. I made sure my engine was warm before getting on the road. I was thankful for the non-eventful drive home. I was thankful for a warm home to welcome me. As usual, I unpacked my bags and started a load of laundry. And finally, I gratefully collapsed into my cozy bed and slept well.
I woke up the next morning, and there was still no snow. But when it started, it accumulated quickly. And it was beautiful. The winter weather wait didn’t interrupt or delay my travels one bit. It invited me into a cozy weekend at home. Sometimes the anticipated delays invite time to savor and time to relax and enjoy the beauty around us.
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