You never think about the tree until it's almost in your windshield.

Last night on my way home from work I managed to find myself in the ditch on the other side of the road.  A little too much speed, the teensiest nudge of the wheel and a few swerve, swerve, swerves later and poooooof, perfect 10 landing into a pile of snow.

The whole time I kept saying "No, no, no, no, no, no..." in a very calm manner.  I didn't think I was going to die, but I did certainly think that my car was going to be a little less attractive than usual.  The car was still on when I hit the ditch.  I turned it off because it freaked me out.

I looked to my left and there was a fence. "Did I crash through a fence?!!?!?!"

I looked to my right and there was a tree. "I COULD HAVE HIT THAT TREE!!!!!"

I stepped out of the car and immediately upon seeing how close (probably 5 feet?) I was to the tree I shot a bunch o' "THANK YOU JESUS GOODNESS GRACIOUS GRACIAS!" up to God.  I almost started crying when I saw that tree because honestly, I had nooooooo clue where I was going on, what I might hit or who I could have hit (thankfully, no one was sharing the road with me).

It took me a few moments to realize "What side of the road am I actually on, then?"  And within three minutes there was a cop car sitting on the road above me.  I was overcome with the perfectness of the entire situation.  He laughed at me. "I mean, if you're going to crash into the ditch this is really the way to do it!  I can see the light from my driveway from here, it's not even cold outside.  I didn't hit that tree.  My car didn't hit anything but a pillow of snow on the firm side. No one was on the road.  And now you show up, out of nowhere.  This is plain ridiculous."

"Well, as long as you're not hurt."  Duuuuuuude, this is crazy!  This is amazing!  Anything could have happened to me but nothing happened!  


And so, my dad came and we left the car in the ditch for the night (I mean, it was already sleeping..) so that, and I'm quoting my dad on this, "you can take a picture of it in the daylight."

It was a complete blur.  I couldn't tell you anything that I saw really until I hit the snow.  I didn't even know the tree was there until I realized I didn't hit it.

Sometimes it takes us almost hitting the tree for us to be thankful for not hitting it in the first place.  That tree and plenty more have been there probably since before I've been around.  And I've never considered that I might hit one, one day.  But it's obviously not out of the realm of possibility.  So, moral: being grateful never hurts.