"If you are traveling West in the morning, you may run into some snow," said the TV weatherman. "Gee, I'm glad I'm going North," I thought as I climbed into bed that evening. In the morning, Mickey and I would be off to an important conference where I was scheduled to speak the next morning.
"Wendell, Wendell," I heard as I opened my eyes. "I think the power went off," Mickey continued as both of us got out of bed. "Oh, no!" I groaned as I looked out the window and saw our maple tree, snow-covered, with its branches weighed down to the ground. We decided that I had better leave early because of a possible snow delay, and come back for Mickey later in the day.
As I went to get into my car, I could hear tree limbs snapping and falling to the ground all along my street. The maple trees, which still had most of their leaves, seemed to be the hardest hit. In my many years of living in Cincinnati, I had never seen trees, still sporting their broad green leaves, covered with that much snow. As I drove away, I could see tree limbs lying everywhere.
CONSIDER how several days later I found myself jogging around a lake in my area. The sun was shining and the temperature was on the rise. "That's odd," I thought as I looked into the woods; very few of the trees had broken branches. I thought there would have been tree limbs everywhere. Why the difference? Perhaps it was because the trees here were closer together, giving one another support and shelter during the snow. The trees that were hardest hit were the ones standing all alone, with no other tree to lean on or shelter under from the snow.