Today has been one of those days when the weather intervenes and dictates things: snow and more snow, all up and down New England. It's one of the largest accumulations of this year, a season in which snowfall has been unusually light--so far.
I've got visitors, and so I'm not planning any big posts today. But it's fun to have this day of snow, especially on a Sunday when most people don't really have to go anywhere, and we can sit around and read the paper, talk, eat, and generally do a lot of nothing without feeling much pressure to do any more than that. And tonight, when things clear a bit, we're even planning to go out to eat.
So, no "Outcasts of Poker Flat" action here, I'm glad to report. When I was a child, something about that tale and the images it evoked gripped my imagination: the band of assorted people trapped in a cabin in a blizzard, day after day of snow and a dwindling food supply, drifts piling ever higher as the windows were obscured and the hut became buried. What started out as a cozy idyll ended up a horror story.
Snow in New England ordinarily has its plusses, as long as we don't get too much of it. The ski areas have been hurting this year, and now they'll be happy for a while. The kids--well, the kids love it, except for the unfortunate timing of this particular storm, that comes on a weekend and means they don't get a longed-for snow day. The rest of us get to enjoy the beauty of it--let's face it, it's just not winter without snow, and this year's snow cover has been a sometime thing.
Today brings us a nor'easter, one of those colorful old-fashioned words that basically means a big winter storm, with wind. Not a good time to be out at sea, but with modern weather forecasting the commercial fishermen and anyone else who might think of going out there in February are given plenty of advance warning.
Unlike the Outcasts, we here on land have also got the modern conveniences of electricity (so far), heat, refrigerators stocked with food, a market down the street, and snowplows hard at work to clear the way. It makes the storm a pleasant interlude rather than a fearful encounter with an overwhelming and sometimes harsh nature. But it's still a reminder--although a relatively tame one--of how essentially vulnerable we all remain.
See you tomorrow!