Sections

12.1.10

One Last Thing: Acclimating to Winter

I grew up in the South and never traveled north of the Mason-Dixon line until I was eighteen. On the Gulf Coast, it thunderstorms every afternoon for six months of the year – and when it’s not raining, it is hotter and more humid than a dog’s armpit. Hurricanes, tornados, hail, and the like are just what’s expected. Anything less and you might be disappointed. Growing up, I suppose I took for granted all the wild weather we routinely experienced, only vaguely aware of other people’s weather. When I first heard of nor’easters, I just figured they were likely the New Englanders’ feeble attempt to have their own kind of special weather to brag about.

I have lived through snow in New York City, but the first snowstorm we enjoyed here last winter made me feel for the pioneers. Snow blanketed our farm like thick cream cheese on a bagel. It was truly magnificent outside, and I was inspired to go out to the barn and take some photos. Getting around the farm was not easy. Just hauling myself up to the barn turned out to be a seriously good workout, and if I learned anything else that day, it was that I was out of shape and ill-equipped for a New England winter.

Snowstorms aside, when we moved here no one bothered to mention a very important fact about life on the Vineyard: It is windy. I’m not talking it’s-a-bit-windy-outside windy. I’m talking can’t-hear-each-other windy. Sustained windy. Thirty-miles-per-hour-all-day windy. There are days it is so windy, they stop the ferry and you can’t get across the water at all. One day last winter we were coming home from the mainland. The ferry had been canceled earlier in the day because of high winds, but when we got to the dock they were loading cars on the boat. We boarded and started to cross Vineyard Sound, about four or five miles of open water between the Island and the mainland. The wind was blowing and the boat was a-rockin’. I love a good storm, but the thought of going overboard in a ferry accident is not how I want to go down. These boats are really big, so when you can’t even stand up because it’s so turbulent, it tests your confidence in getting safely across. (Why was I standing up in such rough conditions, you ask? For the doughnuts, of course. The ferry serves up some seriously good cake doughnuts that have become part of my family’s ferry-crossing tradition. Not to worry – despite my own struggle to stay upright, I managed to keep my doughnut from landing on the floor.)

Winter ended, and before I knew it, spring had sprung, the summer had begun, and we celebrated our first anniversary of living on the Vineyard. Wonderful sunny days and warm breezes delighted us, not to mention defrosted us. Long summer evenings enjoyed with friends rolled out in front of us as if they would never stop. But here I am and summer is over. School has started up again, and the summer breezes are gone. The autumn winds up by the barn have a bit of a bite to them. I can feel winter creeping in, and before you know it the farm may once again be frosted in Mother Nature’s whitest coat. I’m ready for her this time. I have hats, gloves, and thermals to help keep us warm because life is different now. I cannot just look out my windows and enjoy the scenery. This year we have dairy cows and pigs and chickens, and I have to face the fact that I will be dragging my rear out into the wind, the snow, and whatever else to get to them no matter what. But at least now I have a better idea of what might be around the corner, weather-wise. So let those winter nor’easters come ashore – I’m ready and waiting for them.