Weathering the storm
Rhode Island set a record this week—37 inches of snow—according to the TF Green Airport. That’s 7 more inches than the blizzard of 1978. I wasn’t living here then, but I remember a winter storm in Ohio that year which dumped enough snow that I could cross country ski over the fence tops. Google tells me: “The winter of 1978 featured two distinct, catastrophic blizzards: the Great Blizzard of Jan. 25–27 in the Midwest (Ohio Valley/Great Lakes) and the historic Feb. 6–7 Nor'easter in New England, specifically paralyzing Rhode Island with over 30 inches of snow and 15-foot drifts.”
Last Sunday, Reed and I were coming back from a family baby shower in Ohio. With flight cancellations, we rented an SUV and drove the 800 miles, not wanting to be stranded in Atlanta or Chicago. We were lucky in Pennsylvania’s Allegheny and Pocono mountains as temperatures hovered above 32 and there was more rain than sleet. We headed north of New York City and the roads were salted with plow crews lined up along the roadside prepared for the forecast. The snow was starting to fall, but it was still too warm to accumulate as trucks sped along trying to reach their destination before the ban for commercial vehicles kicked in at 6 p.m. As we crossed the state line, snow began to fall in Rhode Island and the wind was picking up. Only a few cars were on the road with the 7 p.m. travel ban. Thankfully, we dropped off the rental car and picked up ours in airport’s long-term parking, and we were home in time to take down the bird feeders so they didn’t become ammunition in the windy gusts.
And then the wind blew and the snow flew sideways.
Our electricity flickered minutes before I opened my Brown undergrad class via Zoom on Monday. Thankfully, we didn’t lose electricity and we were starting to dig out by the time I held another virtual class on Tuesday, although our street was not yet plowed. Some students had been out skiing on the hilly streets around the Brown campus. One student from Chicago said, “We have a lot of snow where I’m from, but I’ve never seen anything like this.” Everyone laughed when I mentioned the ‘78 blizzard as the students weren’t yet born.
When I could look out the windows still plastered with snow, I could see the Brandt geese bouncing in the waves. They breed in the Arctic and winter here. Their ruk-ruk call has become soothing to us. Our winter friends.
Riding out the storm is what we are doing these days. We do that with the religious rituals of fasting during Ramadan or the ashes placed on our foreheads to open the six weeks of Lent—Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return. We take the opportunity to find joy and fun in the middle of the storm—students skiing down the streets of Providence. We celebrate life events—I was heartened to see the friends and young families toasting my niece and her husband’s upcoming birth at the Ohio shower. We show up for protests and work locally to speak out against the current atrocities—a Minneapolis blog about the community organization efforts in Powderhorn Park, the site of the ICE activities, and the Feb 28th activities in Washington DC and the boycotts. We monitor nature in all her beauty and winter drama—the birds and ducks are starting to show their mating colors.
I wish you fortitude and inner peace as you and yours weather these stormy times.
