A 100 Percent Chance of Snow

Last Thursday, reading the online weather information, I learned that there was a 100 percent chance of snow in the New York City area for the following day. I kept staring at the number in bemusement. I had spent so many winters in North Carolina, where snow was much more a notion than an actual event. It was always talked about in the conditional tense; the stars and the atmospheric conditions had to line up just right to get even a flake of snow. To have snowfall -- and 6 to 10 inches of it, moreover, which could paralyze North Carolina for days! -- confidentally predicted with 100 percent certitude seemed an arrogance bordering on hubris. It made me realize, more than anything had for a while, what a different sort of place I was now living in.
Not only that, but the world was going on as usual. No one was rushing out of work early to buy milk and bread. A colleague at the next desk called a friend and said he guessed he wouldn't be coming to the poker game in New Jersey on Friday, but he seemed slightly embarassed to let a little thing like 10 inches of snow interfere with a completely unnecessary 30-mile drive.
On Friday, it snowed, as promised. Fat flakes falling out of the dark sky turned Brooklyn temporarily peaceful and blanketed with perhaps 6 inches of snow. Later it turned to rain for a while and then the sun came out. Before we knew it, the snow had vanished like a dream. The world went on as usual.