Snowy June

It snowed last night in Michigan. It’s June 17th, almost summer. We got about two inches. I was leaving school several hours hours after the kids were dismissed for summer break, reading my newest book and enjoying the emptiness, when I found the world covered in white. My grey hatchback, now white, still contained a snow scraper due to my failure to put away winter items. I exchanged my books for the scraper and cleared off the windows and lights. 

There was less traffic on the roads as I made my way to the grocery store to buy salt for the sidewalk. We had run out during the last winter storm. Watermelons and fresh cherries greeted me at the door, and I asked the store attendant where I could find salt. She walked me to the spice aisle and pointed to table salt. “No, the… uh—“ I gestured toward outside, but she was already sauntering off. I shrugged and grabbed the biggest table salt container I could find. 

Wandering through the store, no one seemed to be phased by the extreme weather phenomenon. I watched as a lady in the deli department packaged freshly cooked rotisserie chickens, then decided against the salty convenience. The radio broke from music to a man’s voice announcing the weather forecast. I pulled out my phone to confirm what I’d heard: freezing temperatures for the next four days, getting down to 0ºF before returning to the 70ºs. 

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When I awake from dreams like this typically, I attempt to write down what I can remember and then forget by the time I awake again hours later. This time I did not forget any of the details. Such a bizarre story that my brain wove last night, and it stuck with me. 

I used to have dream interpretation books as a kid, and the idea that specific objects represented certain beliefs or motifs was easy to believe. I loved to pick apart my dreams. Now, I’m not so sure it’s that simple. What do I think this one represents? Possibly the notion that I pay attention to the world and see misgivings all around that no one else seems to be phased by. Maybe I feel guilty for still having a snow scraper in my backseat and people who sit back there have to be careful of it under their feet. Or it’s the winter items still out by the front door. Also, why was I a teacher? Do I feel like my purpose is to teach others? Yes, probably. But in no way do I want to teach kids. 

Not all of my dreams have me this full of questions. I understand that our brains do some crazy stuff while we sleep. Though, I had never dreamt of snow in June until now.