Last night we had some snow.
Chaos is the word that sprang to mind. A couple of hours of heavy snowfall turned Glasgow to virtual gridlock. From an appointment in the city centre (more on that later) it took me almost 1hr 40mins to get home, for a journey that would normally take 20mins tops.
One the route, which includes two hills, I had to stop twice to help push cars that were struggling. When I got to the steep hill near my flat I could see a lot of people halfway up the hill helping stranded cars, struggling for traction. I pulled in at the bottom of the hill and left my car there.
Walking up the hill I could hear shouts of help and encouragement from about 20 different people, some fetching snow shovels, others fetching grit and salt, it was almost jovial. A real spirit of helping others so, on my way past I stopped too and helped push a further three cars, mostly sideways off of the main road.
It was treacherous, the heavy fluffy snow fell on un-gritted roads, was quickly compacted then froze to sheets of ice. I waved down a couple of cars at the top of the hill to warn them. One turned back, the other continued. I hope I don’t find that car at the bottom of the hill tomorrow.
It was oddly quiet in that walk up the hill, so few cars able to move, the study thrum of rush hour silenced by the glowing white snow. It was an oddly nice moment to end my long journey home. A soothing balm after a stressful drive full of slips and spinning wheels.
Last year I felt very proud of my city, the Commonwealth Games and the vote for Independence seemed to bring something new to Glasgow and Scotland, or perhaps it just revived some things that never really go away.
It was nice to find it again, if only for a few moments, in the freezing cold as a group of strangers slipped and slid and struggled together to help another stranger, that spirit of camaraderie; Glasgow, the friendly city. Snowbound or not.