Sunday, February 18, 2007

HEAT WAVE

In Maine we get, some years, what we call a "January thaw", a few days of real, not merely comparative, warmth. This year we didn't have a January thaw-- we didn't need one either. On the heels of the warmest December on record, we had more of the same, for several weeks. The first week of January found me outside fiddling with the engine of one of our cars wearing a t-shirt. January? What January?
But late January, winter came, and the temperatures fell to seasonal levels-- it was cold during the day, and colder still at night. Still, the ground was pretty much bare, unless you count an inch or two of discouraged snow.
Finally, the second week of February, Real Winter came to Maine. A storm larger than Pennsylvania blew in from the Southeast bringing with it a basket of Official Warnings-- We had a Flood Warning, A Winter Storm Watch, A Winter Storm Warning and finally A Blizzard Warning along with A Coastal Flooding Warning. The clear skies clouded over, the sun took a powder, and long about midnight, the first flakes fell, like stray confetti blown in from a distant ticker tape parade. Then more, and more still. By early morning there was more than six inches of new powdery snow everywhere and everything was closed-- the schools, a lot of offices, meetings canceled and the snow fell on.
In the afternoon the snow slowed, then stopped altogether. By then, we'd had a foot or so, no big deal really, just enough to be able to qualify as a real snow. But then it started to sleet-- damp hail fell, coating the scraped streets, the brushed windshields, the few brave or foolish pedestrians plodding along undeterred. The sleet grew stronger, the wind picked up, and the temperatures started to fall. In the light of street lamps, the sleet began to give way to snow again, and then, as though to make sure that on this day of precipitation that the meteorological variety show was complete, thunder rolled over the house. "Was that thunder," I asked my wife. "That was thunder," she said.
Thursday came, blinding. The sun shone down on around a foot and a half of bright, bright snow. The storm had passed early enough for the plows to make the roads clear enough for the school busses to roll, so the children had to be content with just their one Snow Day. People continued the digging they had begun the day before, the mail arrived only a little late, and garbage and recycling trucks rumbled by, their clankings and bangings muffled by the sound absorbing snow all around.
Friday seemed as though this was how it had always been-- the roads were cleared, the sidewalks too, it was sunny and business as usual. People went to the store and got ready for the weekend. School wrapped up ahead of February Vacation, and some families left town for a week down South-- Somewhere Warm.
But the day after, for those who stayed behind, Somewhere Warm came here to pay a call. The temperature rose, and rose some more-- and as the temperature vaulted past freezing, the streets began to grow dark with snowmelt from the curb. Coats were unfastened, then removed altogether. Children wearing nothing more than sweats threw snowballs at one another. The lines at the car washes grew longer and longer as the grime and salt were sluiced off and disappeared down the drain. The sun rose higher in a cloudless sky, the winds stayed away and someone said, "This thaw, it's six weeks late. Is this global warming?"
"No," was the reply. "This is just a one day heat wave."
"Heat wave, huh. Well, it's good enough for February..."