It all went so smoothly on the return journey. Too smoothly by half. Minor inconveniences of cars coming in the other direction, but they behaved themselves and managed to find a space wide enough for the bus to get past.
Then the wind blew up and the snow started to drift. The road was covered again. In places it was quite deep and the bus began to struggle. The last child had been dropped and it was just a case of turning around and hoofing it back to the depot.
Two corners later I was stuck. Embedded in a wall of snow again. The car coming the other way was also stuck. A familiar voice came out of the dark:
"I thought I might be meeting you around now, somewhere along this road." It was one of the teachers from the school I had just come from. He grabbed a shovel from his boot. I grabbed mine and we both dug. We dug for five minutes, after which there was room to get past. No one complained. It was just a typical countryside problem with a typical resolution.
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