Woke
up to a bit of a treat today. Of course, part of that allows that
at this late point in the season you still believe snow is a treat.
Many of us look out the window, see it on the ground, and close
our eyes with a wincing facial expression while trying to figure
out if we left our boots in the garage, the mud room or someplace
else. Sill, there it was, a dusting of snow providing a light
blanket of coverage across the yard.
And,
well, that’s a bit of a lie. Not untrue. But the words dusting
and light really don’t work. The temperature is such that we are
not talking about that ridiculously delicate and fluffy snow.
The quarter-inch on the ground actually would make a decent snowball
if you decided to pack some of it together. Not dust. Not light.
But it did qualify as something else that happens around here.
Often.
Measurable
accumulation.
In
upstate New York, measurable accumulation is a major difference
maker. It seems like even on a completely clear night you can
wake up to find your car covered in a layer of snow. Just so cold
that all of the moisture in the air froze and landed on your vehicle.
The fun part is, it disappears almost as easily as it appeared.
A burst of daytime sunshine and it melts away. Add a magician,
an assistant and a few waves of the hand and people might applaud.
But
that less than an inch does qualify as something else. You got
it, a measurable snowfall amount. Five or six days of it and suddenly
three or four inches are added to the total for the year.
I’m
not suggesting that less than an inch today and less than an inch
tomorrow, here and there and thirty times a winter, covers the
massive annual differences between cities along the New York State
Thruway and other locations. Buffalo and Rochester have plenty
of reasons why they rack up massive amounts. And the just shy
of eleven feet that covers Syracuse every year eclipses the highest
totals for a year in the state of Rhode Island by about six feet.
So, sure, in the grand scheme of things, dusting upon dusting
over three months accounts for a really small part of the difference.
It
adds up though. It all adds up. Even the snow that has residents
looking out the windows with a reaction of: “Yeah, I’m not going
outside in nine-below for that.” Which in a somewhat clunky, bang
the snow off your boots before even thinking about stepping into
the house again way, brings us around again to this morning and
the view of my backyard.
When
you mix getting a good frost or an easy snowfall overnight with
a bright sunrise, the stage is set. Everything melts and melts
quickly when touched by the sun. And therein lies the magic, because
the rays of sunshine have to hit ground. Otherwise, it’s still
cold, and the frost and snow stay in place.
The
sun rises, expands its coverage, and the snow is erased. It’s
very much like the reverse of a shadow, or a photo negative, where
instead of a darker area created by objects blocking the sun,
the same objects protect the results of a winter’s night.
There
are times when a foot of snow might fall. Reach out to places
that get slammed by lake effect snow and other assorted combinations
of nature once or twice a season, and you may hear of two or three
or more feet on the ground. Everything comes to a stop as the
realities of a blizzard hit. And that makes snow retreating across
a yard even more dazzling. The same forces capable of bringing
closure to an entire region, in a different scenario are removed
by the arrival of daylight.
There’s
a reason why the northeast can be depressing in the winter. While
you can be treated to stunningly beautiful conditions in the summer
months, the days from November through February are most often
overcast and gray. You absolutely notice the days when the sun
makes appearances during the winter.
Occasionally,
when conditions are right, you will be treated to a sunrise fighting
the doldrums that crept in overnight. And it’s always nice when
the doldrums pull back.