The pothole could have eaten my car. I drive a small Prius so it is not real big, but it doesn't like holes. It doesn't like snow and ruts either. My husband drove it in the alley when the snow was kinda melty. The ruts had gotten soupy. As he drove through the alley I could hear crusty snow grating on the metal undercarriage as he drove over it. The tires were digging into the ruts. Oh yes, the pothole.
Potholes are a sign of spring in Montana. Most are average sized, easily seen and avoided. But the other day I was surprised. I had turned down the street to go to Walmart. As I was coming to the stop sign I saw it. Just feet away. It was about 6-8 inches deep. Probably 4-5 feet across. See I told you it could have eaten my car.
It was straight ahead. I patted myself on the back for seeing it in time. Thankfully there was no oncoming traffic as I swerved to avoid it. As I drove around it, my imagination painted a picture of the tires snapping off as the pothole ate my car. Scary huh.
Some people judge spring by the arrival of the Robins (I haven't seen any.) Some people by when the daffodils start popping up. (No not me.) For me it is officially spring when I start seeing potholes.
Now I will begin mentally mapping the potholes and take bets with myself of if and when they will be filled. Spring is officially here - I have seen the granddaddy pothole.