There’s no other feeling quite like it. That’s good, because it’s not a good one.

I was driving down Route 38 during the big snow storm last Tuesday. It was snowing and blowing and the road hadn’t been plowed. It was bad enough that I actually passed through Malta without seeing it, not even the big lighted sign of the Marathon station on the west end of town.

I was coming up on a little hill just past the turnoff to Kishwaukee College when a gust of wind kicked up. For a  moment, everything went white, sort of like driving in a huge vacuum of milk. Being unable to see is an awful sensation, both helpless and a little panicky.