Mother Davis sits at the kitchen table in her t-shirt and shorts as she ponders,
Is 46.1 degrees fahrenheit too warm for an Upstate New York winter morning?
I’m visiting a friend who has one of these new digital indoor-outdoor weather stations, with all sorts of information, like time, barometric pressure, wind speed, and temperature. It was the temperature that caught my eye this morning, when I woke up at 6:30 AM: It was 46.1 degrees.
My friend says it’s been like that almost the whole winter long. After a cold spell in late November and early December, it’s been in the 30s, 40s, 50s, and a few days even broke into the 60s. She seems appreciative, yet uneasy, about it.
I’ve talked to a few people about the strange warmth we’re having this winter. It’s not just in New York. The upper midwest, for example. which is used to proudly defying the bitterest American temperatures outside of Alaska, must make due this year with walking out the front door and saying, “Hm. Not that bad.”
There seem to be three different reactions people have. First, they love it, and hope that it lasts until April. Second, they wonder what will start to happen in April, if the summer will be a gruelling as the winter has been soft. Third, they wonder if, maybe, something is going very, very wrong to replace our daily snow shovelling ritual with balmy walks down the street.
I saw a tulip tree’s buds swelling today and wondered myself. I wondered what other people are seeing.
Feeling decidedly luke warm,