2 AM Chicago glitters with sharp fragments of snow made hard like diamond at the moment of birth by Northwind off Lake Michigan. The millions falling through the vortex, twisting, catching and returning the streetlights and headlights, each its own unique crystal, each finding its own unique path to Earth. Fresh dust blinking, more like a holiday snowglobe of glass than the world as we know it.

And then yesterday wet snow all day. Big flakes.

I watch the Chicago drivers to see how it's done. The careful maneuvering, the stop signs. Some use technology to their advantage-- I covet the cars with auto-start. As a driver schooled in Washington, I don't know snow driving from sassafras. There, a half inch or more of snow on the ground meant all my obligations were canceled for the day, and I could stay away from motor vehicles and instead stay in reading or learning Great Rock Songs. And if not canceled, the two-hour delays gave the snow time to reach prime toxic slushiness at 10:30 am.

In wintermix Chicago, I watch and learn from the professionals.