DECEMBER 24, 2020 – Yesterday while I was workin’ away . . . at work . . . my cell phone rang, and up popped an 800-number. I suspected a robo-marketing call but answered anyway. It was a robo call but not a solicitation. It was from Eversource, the power company serving our family quarters in Connecticut. The lengthy message told of a serious winter storm threatening to disrupt power over the holiday weekend. Among other warnings, the message advised customers to charge their phones.
This message about the weather half a continent away caused me instinctively to look out the window to check our local weather. I saw “Partly dark and periods of gloom, with temperatures above freezing, given the rain.”
At about this same time our son and his wife called from the Red Cabin, where they’d been quarantining for the past 10 days after their road trip west from New York City. They were about to leave for parts south (our house in the Twin Cities). His weather report: “Fine for travel.”
Within a couple of hours, winter arrived . . . with a vengeance. For the last half hour of their drive, Byron and Mylène drove blind. Their safe arrival in a well-camouflaged (white) car was the best Christmas present Santa’s sleigh could deliver.
As our holiday guests settled in, snow swirled and wind howled outside. By suppertime our plans for a take-out meal from the local “Eggroll Queen” were buried by weather. Our back-up, “New Village Wok,” a quarter mile away, was still open. Predictably, our order was ready in “about 15 minutes.” My wife and Byron suited up to brave the blizzard. I donned my ski gear . . . for a quick expedition around the neighborhood.
Wind whipped the snow sideways and wrestled trees savagely. No vehicles were to be seen, but as I skied up and down the middle of the street, I saw fleeting signs of life—vague figures on foot, who emerged briefly from the storm, then slipped back into its grip.
By the time we’d regrouped comfortably around the dining room table steaming with Chinese takeout (well insulated for the winter walk home), the wind was in greater rage, tearing out a porch screen and driving snow contemptuously across floor and furniture enjoyed during more civilized seasons.
By this morning, the storm was spent. In its wake: bright sunshine and deep freeze temperatures. Time to initiate our new “green,” battery-operated snow-blower. First one out in the immediate neighborhood, I felt like the driver of a high-powered combine driving chaff sky high over the field of fresh-fallen snow. What a feeling of supreme accomplishment—man, mind, and machine over nature’s power!
But my victory was short-lived. Before the snow harvest was finished, the battery charge was spent. Okay by me, actually. My hands were frozen!
In our part of the world, Santa will have clear skies tonight. But to brave the cold, he’d better trim his outfit with extra fur.
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© 2020 by Eric Nilsson
