The Winter of Our Malcontent, or Why Spring Needs to Hurry the Hell Up and Get Here

WELL, THAT happened fast, didn’t it?

Winter, I mean. One week we were sailing along with late-autumn temperatures in the 50s and 60s, and then, almost as soon as the solstice happened, we found ourselves plagued by single-digit lows and highs that looked up at the freezing mark with envy. On top of that, we had four measurable snowfalls in December. New Englanders may shrug at that frequency, but for us mid-Atlantic types, it was an unexpectedly early time to keep our eyes on Twitter to find out if our kids’ schools were closed.

No 30s and 40s to ease us in. No solitary dusting to remind us that more serious stuff was on the way.

I can take — even prefer — cold, wintry weather through the holidays. Things feel terribly off when Christmastime is too warm.

Now that we’re into the New Year, though, I’d sure love for Mother Nature to cut us some slack. If she’s trying to teach a much-needed lesson to the climate-change deniers, I can understand, but that’s like when the teacher would punish the whole class because one kid was acting like a blockhead.

So maybe, Ma N., maybe give us cold instead of frigid? Give us weather that braces us instead of hurts us?

And if you want to bring the 60s and 70s back a few months early, I’d be okay with that, too. | DL

2 thoughts on “The Winter of Our Malcontent, or Why Spring Needs to Hurry the Hell Up and Get Here

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