As I started this post, I was looking out my office window at our early-January snow cover. And I was feeling so lucky.
It was, in reality, a sham snow cover. At that point, there had been just two “storms” that dropped lasting snow this winter. One was a crusty ice mix that just barely put a few inches on the ground. The second contributed an inch or two of easy-to-manage stuff on top of that.
Somehow, with an ensuing dip in temperatures, our ground retained enough snow to keep it white, at least in the unpaved portions, through last weekend. It was a non-threatening, non-inhibiting cover. It was most un-January like.
And thus it was my version of a wonderful winter wonderland.
Yes, I’ve come to hate northeast winters. The daily pummeling of snow last February sealed the deal. Shoveling off one’s home and garage roofs for a few days a week tends to darken your thoughts.
But I had been drifting toward this utter disdain with each passing year as getting around in ice and snow conditions became harder.
This is mostly an age thing. Vehicle control and body control become more difficult as our reflexes slow, bone strength withers, mental tolerance grows short for challenging weather conditions and fear increases for the dangers they pose (slipping on ice, sliding off the road).
Geezers want (need?) safety and comfort. Hence, the winter pilgrimages by thousands of “snow birds” to warmer climes.
But, to be perfectly honest, I was never really much of a winter guy. I don’t like being cold. Neither skiing nor skating ever attracted me. Both require long stretches in freezing conditions. Give me warmth.
For those who can enjoy winter athletic pursuits, the season becomes at least tolerable if not downright enjoyable. A friend and former skier told me she used to look forward anxiously to the first snowfall. I’m sure there are millions like her throughout the north.
When our children were young, they played winter sports (hockey and figure skating) and that kept us busy and excited throughout the long cold months. Travel to distant cities for games — either those our sons played in or those featuring teams we followed — was second nature, even in the midst of the most dire snowstorms or icy conditions.
I was always the most bundled up spectator but, hey, I was comfortable. Being a screaming idiot parent also helped keep me toasty.
Then came winter travel to the high schools or colleges they attended in distant cities and towns, requiring trips down highways to at least catch a plane. Snow storms, ice storms, high winds . . . they all had to be watched closely as the travel dates approached.
Many times we had to battle dangerous road conditions. With time, any residual good feelings I had about winter dissipated.
Now, as past blog posts have detailed, we have our sites set on a permanent shift to the west coast where most of our immediate family resides.
Even several of our most winter-living, hometown-loving friends from this area have made similar post-retirement moves. So, I don’t feel too wimpy. If someone can afford to move, and has children or grandchildren in distant warmer areas, they get out of town as soon as they can.
Likewise, what seems to keep a lot of folks in this area is the closeness of family and the distance of financial security. But, as noted above, even many of these lifers escape from their frostbitten homesteads for the worst months: January, February and March.
Those snowbirds have little reason to flee this year’s El Niño-generated warm and dry winter hater’s wonderland. But some locals predict these conditions won’t last long. A major blizzard is known to have followed at least one of the last such atypical early winters. Forecasts for this year do call for lots of snow through March.
Even then, though, a harsh finale will be far easier to take now that we’ve enjoyed a mild start. It’s the length of the northeastern winters as much as the cold and snow that brings on the anguish.
Everything becomes harder when temperatures dip and the skies unleash their seasonal precipitation, be it snow, freezing rain or some such “wintry mix” of all things hazardous to outdoor pursuits.
Out come coats, sweaters, sweatshirts, heavy socks, shovels, roof rakes, heating supplies (oil, gas or electricity), humidifiers, ice chippers, windshield scrappers and walkway salt.
And out come clouds. Sun takes a holiday. Daylight grows short. Darkness prevails, outside and inside, turning moods likewise dark in many of us.
But that Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) lessens a bunch when the bleakest month, December, is not also hit with snow or ice or freezing temperatures.
Then, when sunshine begins reappearing with some regularity in January, it has a much stronger effect. We had three days of bright sun and blue skies last week, making walks outside possible despite the snow cover and crisp air. Likewise, the gradual lengthening of the days can be appreciated better when one is not exhausted from the usual December blues and outdoor challenges.
Of course, this winter respite meant that our area did without its (curiously) longed-for white Christmas. That was disappointing for guests like my son, daughter-in-law and two grandchildren, who visited us from the golden state of California.
But when a brief snowfall did finally arrive on their departure day, it brought with it one of its most troublesome side effects: disruption of plane schedules. Their flight was delayed four hours in Syracuse (mostly due to weather in the Midwest, evidently), causing them to miss their connection in New York City. (Eventually, as often happens in such situations, the mix of flight cancellations and delays worked in their favor and they were able to secure seats on a later flight, albeit a “red eye” absent their luggage, which temporarily went to the destination of a flight they previously had secured.)
Still, my oldest grandson made the most of the few hours he had with the snow cover. The four-year-old begged to go outside (despite a constant rainfall that followed the early-morning snow) and walked all over our property with a snow shovel, digging or breaking up the ice chunks that covered the fallen inflatable snowman.
Ahh, to be young and love snow again.
Meanwhle, as I wrap up this piece, weekend rains have reduced even our sham snow cover to just a few spots (see photo above). It’s the 11th of January.
Ahh, to be a geezer and have no snow worries.
It was, in reality, a sham snow cover. At that point, there had been just two “storms” that dropped lasting snow this winter. One was a crusty ice mix that just barely put a few inches on the ground. The second contributed an inch or two of easy-to-manage stuff on top of that.
Somehow, with an ensuing dip in temperatures, our ground retained enough snow to keep it white, at least in the unpaved portions, through last weekend. It was a non-threatening, non-inhibiting cover. It was most un-January like.
And thus it was my version of a wonderful winter wonderland.
Yes, I’ve come to hate northeast winters. The daily pummeling of snow last February sealed the deal. Shoveling off one’s home and garage roofs for a few days a week tends to darken your thoughts.
But I had been drifting toward this utter disdain with each passing year as getting around in ice and snow conditions became harder.
This is mostly an age thing. Vehicle control and body control become more difficult as our reflexes slow, bone strength withers, mental tolerance grows short for challenging weather conditions and fear increases for the dangers they pose (slipping on ice, sliding off the road).
Geezers want (need?) safety and comfort. Hence, the winter pilgrimages by thousands of “snow birds” to warmer climes.
But, to be perfectly honest, I was never really much of a winter guy. I don’t like being cold. Neither skiing nor skating ever attracted me. Both require long stretches in freezing conditions. Give me warmth.
For those who can enjoy winter athletic pursuits, the season becomes at least tolerable if not downright enjoyable. A friend and former skier told me she used to look forward anxiously to the first snowfall. I’m sure there are millions like her throughout the north.
When our children were young, they played winter sports (hockey and figure skating) and that kept us busy and excited throughout the long cold months. Travel to distant cities for games — either those our sons played in or those featuring teams we followed — was second nature, even in the midst of the most dire snowstorms or icy conditions.
I was always the most bundled up spectator but, hey, I was comfortable. Being a screaming idiot parent also helped keep me toasty.
Then came winter travel to the high schools or colleges they attended in distant cities and towns, requiring trips down highways to at least catch a plane. Snow storms, ice storms, high winds . . . they all had to be watched closely as the travel dates approached.
Many times we had to battle dangerous road conditions. With time, any residual good feelings I had about winter dissipated.
Now, as past blog posts have detailed, we have our sites set on a permanent shift to the west coast where most of our immediate family resides.
Even several of our most winter-living, hometown-loving friends from this area have made similar post-retirement moves. So, I don’t feel too wimpy. If someone can afford to move, and has children or grandchildren in distant warmer areas, they get out of town as soon as they can.
Likewise, what seems to keep a lot of folks in this area is the closeness of family and the distance of financial security. But, as noted above, even many of these lifers escape from their frostbitten homesteads for the worst months: January, February and March.
Those snowbirds have little reason to flee this year’s El Niño-generated warm and dry winter hater’s wonderland. But some locals predict these conditions won’t last long. A major blizzard is known to have followed at least one of the last such atypical early winters. Forecasts for this year do call for lots of snow through March.
Even then, though, a harsh finale will be far easier to take now that we’ve enjoyed a mild start. It’s the length of the northeastern winters as much as the cold and snow that brings on the anguish.
Everything becomes harder when temperatures dip and the skies unleash their seasonal precipitation, be it snow, freezing rain or some such “wintry mix” of all things hazardous to outdoor pursuits.
Out come coats, sweaters, sweatshirts, heavy socks, shovels, roof rakes, heating supplies (oil, gas or electricity), humidifiers, ice chippers, windshield scrappers and walkway salt.
And out come clouds. Sun takes a holiday. Daylight grows short. Darkness prevails, outside and inside, turning moods likewise dark in many of us.
But that Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) lessens a bunch when the bleakest month, December, is not also hit with snow or ice or freezing temperatures.
Then, when sunshine begins reappearing with some regularity in January, it has a much stronger effect. We had three days of bright sun and blue skies last week, making walks outside possible despite the snow cover and crisp air. Likewise, the gradual lengthening of the days can be appreciated better when one is not exhausted from the usual December blues and outdoor challenges.
Of course, this winter respite meant that our area did without its (curiously) longed-for white Christmas. That was disappointing for guests like my son, daughter-in-law and two grandchildren, who visited us from the golden state of California.
But when a brief snowfall did finally arrive on their departure day, it brought with it one of its most troublesome side effects: disruption of plane schedules. Their flight was delayed four hours in Syracuse (mostly due to weather in the Midwest, evidently), causing them to miss their connection in New York City. (Eventually, as often happens in such situations, the mix of flight cancellations and delays worked in their favor and they were able to secure seats on a later flight, albeit a “red eye” absent their luggage, which temporarily went to the destination of a flight they previously had secured.)
Still, my oldest grandson made the most of the few hours he had with the snow cover. The four-year-old begged to go outside (despite a constant rainfall that followed the early-morning snow) and walked all over our property with a snow shovel, digging or breaking up the ice chunks that covered the fallen inflatable snowman.
Ahh, to be young and love snow again.
Meanwhle, as I wrap up this piece, weekend rains have reduced even our sham snow cover to just a few spots (see photo above). It’s the 11th of January.
Ahh, to be a geezer and have no snow worries.