This is it.
The start of Winter.
It came today, with snow and wind in the morning -- enough to cause the Lyme Listserve to crackle with announcements of slippery roads, skidding cars, and snow tires. During daylight hours, the wind blustered and blew, the temperature hovered around freezing, and up here -- at the mid-point of the Granite State, between the extreme cold of Mt. Washington and the suburban warmth of Manchester & the Derrys along I-93 -- it was a kinda cold-all-day-long, kinda day. By nightfall, when it became apparent that the morning snow would not melt, that the ground was still really hard, and that the wind would continue to blow, you could feel the sweet sting in your eyes and face of Winter itself.
In Hanover, at the Dartmouth campus, students walked with a slightly bewildered expression. Not the seniors, mind you, or the juniors. But sophomores? Freshmen? The look of ohmigod was clearly apparent.
Not this. Not this, again.
Everyone else was ready for it. Or at least, not surprised. You live in the northern part of New Hampshire, which is the northern part of New England. It's mid-November. It will be cold, day and night, from now until the end of March (if you're lucky; mid-April is more likely).
And frankly, I love it.
For much of the rest of the United States, I suspect (or remember from my days growing-up along in mid-Atlantic states) that Winter remains a season to get thru. No joy in Winter there. In most places, Winter is just a series of inconveniences that made you appreciate the 90% humidity to come six months later.
Not here.
Instead, Winter is its own time. It's not just a season, but a way of living, of experiencing the natural world, and humanity's effort to adopt to an environment that appears hostile, but maybe is as welcoming as Summer.
Consider the following: this afternoon, as daylight disappeared, I drove to Oak Hill in Hanover -- home to the Dartmouth Cross Country Ski course -- and got ready for my run. From Spring until the snow is thick on Oak Hill, I strongly enjoy running and mountain-biking the trails of Oak Hill. Like most days, I went out there today and changed into my exercise gear in the glory of a port-a-potty. Unlike most days, though, today was a bit chilly. But with temps in the low 30s, it was just a bit harder environment in which to undress.
But darn it, I knew what to wear. By the time I emerged from the port-a-potty, I had not only changed from business wear (suit, starched shirt, polished shoes) to running gear (tights, running shoes, top, jacket, hat, mittens), but I was warm. Very, very comfortably warm. For the next 45 minutes, as I wandered over Oak Hill and dale (literally), even though the Sun sank and my headlight had to be illuminated, there was not a cold part to be found on my body. It was different, but just as comfortable as running in summer with in running shoes and a pair of shorts.
And maybe this has been the biggest revelation of all to me about Winter in northern, northern New England: here, I spend as much time outside in the dead of Winter as I do in the heat of Summer.
Sure, the clothes and activities are very, very different. But Winter is playtime here, just like Summer is playtime -- or considered playtime -- for most people elsewhere in the United States.
So, on this cold November night, when I could feel Winter get a strong grip in the land and in the air, a smile came to my face.
Despite the dark, despite the cold, there was a different kind of warmth, a different kind of fun to embrace. And all of it -- all of the next 4.5 months -- lay before me. Chris, my brother-in-law, says the best day of vacation is the first day.
Well, today was the first day of Winter Vacation. To be certain, by then March 2009, I'll be ready for getting on a bike, for jumping in a pool (and later a pond), for running in just a pair of shorts. But between now and then there is a whole world of Winter fun to join.
Brrrrr! I'm in Namibia and enjoying the 90 degree desert heat :)
Posted by: Mary G | November 20, 2008 at 04:25 PM