when they close the bridges and we're not both on the same side.
It's snowing again in Beaufort, and it's piling up pretty quickly now that the temperature is below freezing, unlike this morning's more optimistic snow that fell beautifully and melted away.
And Ben is in a caravan with his youth group, returning from a ski trip.
Not only does he have to drive through the deepest snow to get home, he can't get all the way home.
The police have closed the high-rise bridges.
So he's going to have another night in the company of his youth group, whichever generous soul will take him in. And some of his kids won't be able to get home, because they live across the other high-rise bridge in town.
When any one of the bridges is closed, there's always another. But for them all to be closed means that those kids on the island and us here between the rivers are stuck.
They have a member on the police force whom they can call when they get close and see what needs to be done, so no one's panicked yet. As catastrophes go, it's minor. Arrangements can be made, and grace will be extended. This so rarely happens, and I really LOVE snow and am trying to enjoy it.
But I was kind of counting on him coming home tonight.
UPDATE: he's home! It was a little like skating on the downhill side of the big bridge, and I wouldn't have done it if I'd known what it was really like...but we're all home and safe, with no real plans to go anywhere tomorrow until things clear up.