Osler's Razor

Yesterday, I did something stupid. There was an incredible storm coming, but I still drove back to Minneapolis from Madison, Wisconsin, some 5 hours to the east (in good conditions).

Because things had gone so well in Madison, I was in a wonderful mood. Some of the time, I turned off the stereo and sang, loudly, to no one and everyone.

As I headed north and west and the storm came to meet me, it came with a vengeance. There was nearly no visibility, and there was about a foot of powder on I-94 in many places. Cars and trucks were off the road everywhere. As I hit the storm, I passed a raft of emergency vehicles; a man was being loaded on a stretcher into an ambulance. A truck lay on its side in the ditch, the top peeled back like a sardine can. Cars sat, nose first, immobilized in snow.

I know that I should have stopped and waited out the storm, or better yet just stayed in Madison. But I kept going, following a faint track at 20 mph much of the way.

Getting home was grace; I did not deserve it, as I made the wrong decision. But still, I sang, and received grace even when wrong, and for that I am thankful and happy.