Can’t tell you what a relief it was to wake up to a dusting of snow on the ground this morning in Potsdam. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been through every winter since 1957 in the North Country and I have never seen the like of this. Admit it; it’s been creeping you out, too, like around day four of the Ice Storm of 1998, when we all began to wonder if some terrible tipping point had arrived, that somebody had broken the weather.
Next might come fireball season, volcanoes erupting in the Adirondacks, Northern Lights visible by day as a second moon rises pale and purple in the west. Yikes!
In the usual North Country weather tale an old fart on the next stool at the diner will say, “You think this is winter? I remember the blizzard of ’77 when 96 inches fell in 36 hours. I helped deliver groceries on snowmobile. You had to go upstairs to see out the windows.” And then everybody else at the counter would try to top it.
I have to say, I’d prefer that to this. Extremes of the season are one thing, skipping a season altogether is another. History still remembers 1816 as the “year without a summer” after the eruption of Tambora put so much dust into the atmosphere as to give the world a foretaste of nuclear winter.
They say the winter of 1931-32 was like this one, but that was before my time, or the time of anyone I know who lived here then. And since the Weather Channel’s local historical weather data only goes back to 1945, you can’t prove it by me. So let’s call this a once-in-a-lifetime weather event. Once is plenty.
Do you have a once-in-a-lifetime weird weather tale? Spill it in a comment below. You know you want to.