One cannot rule out a blizzard in Minnesota after Labor Day, and

In the words of Hope Jahren, scientist and seeker of truth, we are given a reflection that at first seems practical but reveals a deeper wisdom: “One cannot rule out a blizzard in Minnesota after Labor Day, and so when I travel for Thanksgiving or any time in the fall, I am careful to fly into Des Moines instead of Minneapolis and then drive the 200 miles north to my hometown.” Here is more than travel advice; it is the reminder that foresight and humility before nature are the marks of wisdom.

The mention of a blizzard is not trivial. In the northern lands, storms are mighty and sudden, descending with little warning, capable of disrupting plans, halting journeys, and humbling the proudest traveler. To acknowledge that “one cannot rule it out” is to confess that no human schedule, no calendar marked by Labor Day or Thanksgiving, can command the skies. Nature, vast and untamed, remains the true sovereign. Jahren teaches us to remember this truth: that prudence lies in preparation, in choosing a longer road if it be the safer one, and in bowing to the powers greater than ourselves.

The ancients too respected this wisdom. The mariners of Greece and Rome did not set sail without studying the winds, nor did they scorn the warnings of seasoned sailors. The Athenians, when launching ships into the Aegean, knew that hubris against the sea often ended in ruin. So too, Jahren recognizes the folly of assuming that weather will bend to desire. She chooses the longer path—flying to Des Moines and driving north—not out of fear, but out of reverence for reality.

This act of detouring through Des Moines also holds symbolic power. In life, we are often tempted by the straight road, the direct flight, the shortest path to our goals. Yet wisdom whispers that sometimes the longer journey, though slower, is the surer way home. To embrace the detour is to accept that safety, foresight, and peace are greater treasures than speed. Thus Jahren’s choice becomes a parable: it is better to take the longer road in humility than to risk the short one in arrogance.

Consider the story of Hannibal, the Carthaginian general who sought to conquer Rome. He led his army across the Alps, daring to defy mountains and winter storms. Though he achieved temporary victories, his campaign ended in exhaustion and loss, for the elements he thought to conquer drained his strength. His story, like Jahren’s reflection, reminds us that nature and time are not enemies to be beaten, but realities to be respected.

The lesson for us is clear: prepare for storms even when the skies appear calm. Do not assume that life will bend to your calendar or your wishes. Build your plans with resilience, knowing that detours and delays may prove the very path that secures your safety. The wise person does not curse the longer road but walks it with patience, grateful to arrive at their destination whole.

Practical wisdom follows. When you make your choices—whether in travel, in work, or in relationships—pause to ask not only what is fastest, but what is most enduring. Respect the limits of nature, and do not place yourself at needless risk. And when life places obstacles before you, do not despair. See in them the opportunity to take the safer path, to cultivate patience, and to honor the forces beyond your control.

Thus, the teaching of Hope Jahren becomes eternal: the blizzards of life may come unbidden, and no man or woman may rule them out. But those who prepare, who take the wiser detour, who walk with humility before the storm—these will find their way home, even if the road is longer. And in the end, the journey itself, made in wisdom, is its own form of triumph.