The snow danced and swirled like thousands of little ghostly white dervishes in the glare of the headlights as the truck made its way down the darkened highway.

‘This is not her handiwork’ the driver said to himself for what must’ve been the thousandth time tonight. A massive winter storm system of ice, snow and gale force winds was stretching from Cape Breton to Michigan’s upper peninsula- and here he was in the thick of it, trying to keep one of the state’s highways open with metal on asphalt and thousands of pounds of silica and salt slowly draining from the dump body behind him.

Tonight’s storm had an especially harsher and far more unforgiving edge to it. Her handiwork had a seemingly more personal and almost warmer touch to them.

It was basically the difference between a snow day from school and the snows that trapped the Donner Party.