I grew up in New England (suburbs of Boston) at a time when winters were cold and snow was on the ground from mid December to mid March, usually. The change from one season to the next was pretty sharp. We would be playing hockey on naturally frozen ponds one day and a week later it would be 2 inches of mushy ice on the surface, and the next thing you know the snow is gone, ponds have thawed, and spring flowers are stretching toward bloom. The white winter wonderland turns green in but a couple of weeks. Maybe because of those significant changes from one season to the next I looked forward to the next season as the current one begins to fade. And so here in Delaware where triple H weather blazes on in August, the hours of daylight are greatly reduced from June and my mind begins to think longingly about that first strong cold front that blasts in cold Canadian air. As I look ahead to that September or October day when we feel a strong influence of the north wind I share this vision of a Vermont woods in a photograph I took last fall. Winter is coming.
