Gloomy Forecast
Gloomy Forecast by Simon Whaley
(Gloomy Forecast was published in Shropshire magazine)
Church Stretton may be known as Little Switzerland, but for three weeks after Christmas we had the Alps at the end of our driveways. We are fortunate enough to see a gritter every now and then. This encourages us to girdle our loins, and our snow shovels, and start digging for freedom. Digging and clearing the snow off the driveways, that is.
Three hours later, with a clear drive, we rejoice at being reconnected with the road. Freedom! And then the little flashing orange light catches our attention. The snowplough is on its way.
Who invented this contraption? Every school child is taught that roads are built, and have been since Roman times, with a curved camber to allow rainwater to run off. So, why does the snowplough attachment have a flat bottom edge? The middle of the tarmacked road is scalped whilst the gutter retains its two inches of compacted snow and ice, (compacted further by the weight of the snowplough, for these are not delicate machines), which only ensures the drains remain blocked after the thaw.
The remaining twelve tonnes of snow per foot is cleared away, but where? Across our recently cleared driveways. So, the driveway is clear. The road is clearer and has been gritted. But to get our cars from the driveway onto the public highway, we now have to clear the Alps, which have erupted in front of our faces, across our driveways.
Two hours later, success! Having transferred the snow that was on the road and then snowploughed onto our driveways, to a new location, (our front lawns) the public highway is now accessible again! Hurrah! And then the flashing orange light catches our attention once more.
This light belongs to the pavement snowplough, a scaled-down affair that trundles along clearing the bulk of the snow from the pavements and spitting grit from its rear end. And where does it push all the snow from the pavement? Yes! Across everybody’s cleared driveways, again!
© Simon Whaley
