Friday, January 26, 2024

Four Seasons in One Week by Nancy L. Eady

 We live in Alabama. This time last week, the high was in the low thirties, the sky was clear, and the low the night before was obscene, down around nine. Today, it’s been raining on and off. At least the low last night was forty-five and the high today was seventy. Last night was the first night in over a week where we didn’t leave our pipes dripping to keep them from freezing. I dread the water bill, but I dread the repair bill from frozen pipes more. This has been a two-season week.

One week in March a couple decades ago, which I remember specifically because Mark had gone out of town that week to a seminar, we had a four-season week. The first day was cool but sunny. (Spring). By Wednesday night, it was so warm I suggested to him we take the boat out when he got back. (Summer). On Thursday, the temperatures were back in the fifties (Fall), and the weather people started warning us of a weather event beginning Friday night, which included winter storm warnings with accumulated snow of about eight inches in central Alabama. The stores sold out of bread and milk in an hour. (For some reason, those are the essential items in any weather event. The newer generation doesn’t always understand the concept; Mark stood behind one young man in a weather grocery store line stocking up on frozen TV dinners so he’d have something to eat if the power went out. He didn’t feel he could correct the young man without explaining why he was the only person in the line with Diet Coke. As Mark told my daughter once, he wasn’t fixing to be* snowed in with me without Diet Coke handy.) I told Mark about the snow warning on the phone that night, but we thought there was no way the weather could cool off enough to dump that much snow. During the day Friday, it continued to get colder bit by bit. I kept an anxious eye on the door hoping Mark made it back from South Carolina before whatever was going to happen hit (no cell phones in those days).  But it still didn’t seem ithe temperature could fall enough to dump eight inches of snow on us. The ground surely was warm enough to melt any snow that landed.

Never underestimate Mother Nature. Mark made it home about four that afternoon. When we went to bed that night, the temperature had plummeted into the twenties and for the first time in our lives we saw thundersnow, where it was snowing and thundering and lightning the whole night. Not only did we get eight inches of snow, but it was the first time in the recorded history of the state that the entire state of Alabama received some snow accumulation. (Winter). Even Orange Beach and Mobile, which sit on the Gulf Coast, got at least two inches. I can remember watching the news footage of the waves from the Gulf washing onto the snow-covered sea shore and thinking how strange it looked. Saturday stayed bitter cold, then by Sunday we were back into early spring.

We rarely have a four-season day but it is common in the spring and fall to have days when we run the heater at night and the air conditioner in the day. My family first moved to Alabama when I was sixteen. My mother, raised in Boston, decreed that the air conditioner could not be turned on until June 1. The realities of Alabama weather took a few years to sink in. As they did, the June 1 decree crept back earlier and earlier until, like the rest of us, now there are times when Mom runs the heater and air conditioner in one day. I won’t even begin to tackle hurricane and tornado seasons; they require chapters, not posts.  

But, and I’ve always wanted to start a novel with this, there is an eternal quality to the sunshine and blue sky in an Alabama spring that makes you believe they will stay with you forever, even though you know they won’t.

What kind of freakish weather do you encounter in your neck of the woods? How have you used them in your writing?

 

* “Fixing to” is a Southern colloquialism that means “about to” but with more emphasis. It is not a mere statement of intent but a statement of a mission to complete.

6 comments:

  1. Somehow, my neck of the woods, which is probably fairly close to yours, has had the same freakish weather.

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  2. Here in Pennsylvania, what you've described is perfectly normal. Don't like the weather? Wait ten minutes. But I have to add one more item to your emergency rations list for the grocery store. Toilet paper. Because...you know...it could be weeks before you can get out again. (insert eye roll)

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  3. One day the temperature dropped 50 degrees in an hour. Given I had dressed for the warmer temperatures, before I got home I had gone from sweating in shorts and a t-shirt to near freezing to death. Well, that's hyperbole, but my shivering did indicate my core temperature was too low.

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  4. I've watched a driving rain storm flood the lawns on one side of the street while my side has stayed completely dry. That's Florida for you. Then there's the hurricanes ---- Now I live in Maine - home of blizzards and ice storms. Yep, I've used all of it in my writing!

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  5. I agree with Annette--toilet paper. And pet food, if you have pets.

    Look into heat tapes for those pipes. When we lived in Michigan, we had one water line that was foolishly installed close to the garage door. We wrapped them in heat tapes which we plugged in if the temperature was predicted to go below 10 degrees. I bet they have ones these days that have an on-off switch, or possibly even a thermostat, so you don't have to turn them on by plugging them in.

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  6. We've always said that about Texas — don't like the weather? Wait a minute. Now that we've moved to Colorado, it doesn't seem all that different. Yesterday we were walking around without coats. Today, seven inches of snow...Keeps you on your toes!

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