Maine Weather, The First Winter Snowfall Excitement.
Someone new to Maine, an amateur with snow might think Maine winter weather is ho hum.
On part of the 1-2-3-4 season shift in Vacationland. But no, all four of the calendar quarters are special in Maine.
But winter in Maine, the snowfall that blankets the lay of the land first is always memorable.
Triggering recall of past memories over the holidays that roll in the end of the year especially.
Always wondered how does Santa and those flying deer keep from overheating, being overdressed or used to lower temperatures.
Even with a drink with fruit hanging off the side and the pleated flimsy umbrella atop the toothpick. That replaces the egg nog with the kick.
When setting down in a place like Miami Beach, somewhere with tan sand not white snow.
Driving in snow can seem akin to bunging jumping, parasailing or eating liver and onions to someone new to the sport. The new snow means find a local ski area. Dig out the five ice fishing orange tipped flags and head to a sufficiently frozen lake.
If the mercury has sat low enough in the glass long enough.
The whole nine yards about Maine weather. To snuff out the nasty myths about every Mainer owning a yipping dog sled team. Hibernating in an igloo and hunting polar bears. With only twenty minutes of daylight all winter. It is not the Bermuda Triangle of weather forecasts and climate patterns.
(Record ripping sound, silence) Maine is not that and more than winter to try on for seasons.
But let’s face it. Weather forecasts that match the day and night are critical to enjoying the surroundings. No matter where you hang your hat. Or lay your head in the bed.
So the first snow, we’ve had in in “The County” and like most of the early sprinters in the marathon, just a flash in the pan.
Melted by dusk. The warm soft ground has to slowly slip into shape for the winter snow plowing.
Unless you want the front, side and some of the rear lawn too. Ripped back, rolled like astro-turf. To make for more work in the spring. To patch the holes, rake the gravel and traction aiding sand. Used to keep from getting stuck in a rut, hung up on packed tightly snow in the under carriage of the snow machine.
Or broadcast liberally.
To keep from broken hip trips to the ER, then the operating theater to reset bones. Instead of to partake in another rendition of the Nutcracker or a school, church Christmas holiday musical presentation.
The shovel is ready, hot chocolate too. Nothing to get in the way or to spoil the bright shiny paper, colored brilliant lights adding a glow inside and out over the Christmas season.
Leading into the raise the glass of bubbly to hoist high.
See the clear wavy reflections of what’s behind you. Where I think Mainers are more keen, aware, savor the moment.
Because you can hear yourself think in a place with all this space, untouched natural beauty that is all pure, unfiltered.
The further inland, north and west and east you go. To get more than an arm’s length from all those people on the other side of the the green bridge on the southern tip.
To toast the year that just got up and went. Faster it seems with time that goes by at an increased pace. To make way for the new one and all those new, same old New Year’s resolutions.
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