This an odd time or year in New England. The time has changed, and we are back on Eastern standard. For those of you living in other parts of country, this means that it gets dark by late afternoon, and the days are indeed very short.
For the most part, the leaves are gone from the trees, save for a few holdouts. The sky has the gray, bleak appearance which is typical of November in New England. Probably the most telling reminder that winter, with it’s storms and long, cold nights, is coming is the wind. When bicycle riding, one notices a lot of things about the environment, things which people traveling by car surely miss. The wind has a steel-like feel to it now, a sensation which was not there a few weeks ago. When it gusts, even at weak speeds of ten miles per hour, it has a feel to it which is cold, raw, and mean. (I dress accordingly, with double layered tights, full gloves, and ear protection, worn under my helmet.)
So, just when does winter begin exactly? The calendar and those television weather people, (They of the expensive suits and smiles that remind me of Disney Land employees.) tell us that Winter officially begins on December 21st. Like any native New Englander, I know that this is pure horse crap. In northern New England, say north of Concord, New Hampshire, Winter can come in at any time after Labor Day. In Southern New England, Winter can come at any time after Halloween, and sometimes before. Still, that’s not the official start of Winter. No, I think I have it, finally, after all these years. Winter officially hits when we have that very first morning rush hour snow storm.
Those of you here in New England, particularly the Boston area, know exactly what I am talking about. (Those of you who are rich enough and smart enough to live in places like Montpelier VT, or the southwest corner of New Hampshire, bear with me please ) This is when you set off on you regular morning commute, and find a few random flakes in the air. You think nothing of it, after all, the weather people did say there might be some early morning flurries. So, off you go, to earn the daily bread. You are a few miles into you commute, and it happens: The snow suddenly gets serious, falling at an inch per hour, or greater. The roads have not been treated with anything. Heck, the plows are still sitting in their storage areas at city and state facilities. The rush hour traffic slows down to a crawl, as people seem to have totally forgotten how to drive on the grease-like substance. The distance you could travel in a few minutes is now going to take you an hour or more. In some areas, it is though time itself has stopped. And oh yes, there are those poor suburban mommies in their SUV’s totally dumbfounded that their four-wheel-drive vehicles do indeed slide as easily as anything else, if not easier. ( The looks on their faces is priceless, what with the wide eyes, and mouths shaped into giant “O’s. Talk about a Kodak moment. )
If the Ladies of SUV land are not bad enough, there are the “Macho tough guys”.
Maybe you know one or two. These are the guys in BMW’s, or perhaps Corvettes, who won’t stand for anything slowing them down. One inch of wet slippery snow stops these cars cold. They can barely make it on flat pavement, and the slightest upgrade is comical, as long as you are not stuck behind one. And yet, the macho tough guy insists that stepping on the gas pedal, to “give it more power”, is the answer. Just listen for the squealing rubber.
So, you finally make it to your place of business, and through the course of the day, the talk is of nothing but the storm. No, no one predicted it, and no, no one prepared for it at all. And how could they (Those wonderful weather people) have missed it anyway? The storm ends at some point just afternoon, with a total accumulation of about four inches, varying, depending on where you live. You head on out, deciding to stop for some “staple” items on the way home. And the grocery store is a scene of barely controlled mob violence. After getting into a near knockdown fight over a parking space, you trudge through the snow (now a slushy mess) into the store. The bread has been cleaned out, as is the case with the milk, and “D” cell batteries. Not that you needed any of them anyway, but they are gone. If you are a little tougher, you hang around, and grab that last pack of sliced wonder bread, or perhaps a loaf of that yuppie french bread. Or, if you are like me, you give it up while you can, and get the heck out of there, deciding it’s just not worth it.
You make it home in time to catch the T.V. weather guy (Gal, in some markets) who is explaining, somewhat apologetically, that this mornings storm was “a fluke”, that it was not really “an organized storm system”, and thus “it was a real tough call”. And you’re ready for another day.
And all that is when winter really begins, with that first rush hour snow storm. They can happen in the afternoon as well, but for some reason, that never impacts the way a morning storm does, and besides, you have time to prepare for it.
There are few other signs that Winter has finally come. One is when Boston Mayor Thomas Meninno dismisses “nonessential” city employees. Apparently, Meter Maids are absolutely essential, but librarians are not. Other “essential” employees are the guys who travel the city and put the dreaded “Denver Boot” on cars. (This is one of the reasons I always bike ride into Boston, or use the public transportation)
I have seen these guys actually wade through knee-high snow and ice to install the boot on parked cars. (And if those Denver Boots are so great at keeping cars from moving, how come they are not sold to the general public as antitheft devices? Just wondering.)
Oh yes, there is one more sign that Winter has officially begun: That first time you hear two suburban males talking about their snow blowers. Yes indeed, snow blowers are quite the status symbol. Now, I know nothing about them, nor do I want to, but it seems that the snow blowers ability to toss the snow into a neighbors yard is a prime consideration when buying one. I imagine the noise produced by the device must also be a consideration, but as I said, I really don’t want to know.
And there you have it. We are indeed “Slippin into Darkness” as we head for the long cold nights. I’ll keep riding, as long as the streets are not clogged up with ice and the famous sand/salt mix, which does nothing but make a mess of anything made of metal. ( Really. )
Any snow in your forecast?
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