Henceforth, we are left to wonder whether each of the upcoming seasons on our meteorological calendar will be “regular” or “weird.”
For instance, this past fall was weird. Warm and dry. Last winter? Really weird. Far warmer and much less snowy than usual. We had a completely brown Christmas and a dismal season for winter activities. Last winter was so weird it literally shut down the Arctic Cat plant in Thief River Falls amid devastation to the snowmobile industry. From now on, there will be more winters like this.
But not this year. This year is a regular winter. We’ve already had long stretches of cold, lake ice and snow cover. The forecast calls for a traditionally snowy and cold northern Minnesota winter. We don’t have to dream of a white Christmas. It’s already here.
Case in point, last weekend I hung up the Christmas lights in below freezing weather. I had to remind myself of a few important truths.
First, the way you stored your lights after the last holiday season matters a lot when you take them out in the cold. Wires break easily if you wrap your coils too tightly. Last January was practically Illinoisan, so I got a little lazy on this.
Second, you have to get used to the new LED bulbs. They take a minute to come to life when the thermometer approaches zero. I almost punched our plastic Snoopy when he stayed dark for a few seconds. That would not have properly expressed the Christmas spirit.
Third, fluffy snow is good for a lot of things. Skiing, I’m told. Victorian Christmas cards, too. But it’s about the worst kind of snow to clear away from your roof eaves when hanging lights. With each casual brush, this foofy snow finds every tiny vulnerability in your shirt sleeves, gloves and collar. Couple that with actual, real winter temperatures? Let’s just say, memories of regular winter returned quickly.
Minnesota small talk almost always leads with the weather. The weather always changes, which keeps the topic fresh. Because humans didn’t cause today’s weather, people rarely argue about it. (Until it becomes climate, of course, in which case we must consult with the oil companies first). Yet, there is always some element of performance in chit-chat about the weather.
“Looks like we got the winter we asked for!”
Yuk-yuks ensue.
“Oh, I don’t know if I asked for this much winter.”
More yuk-yukking.
Listen, I don’t know how to stop this conversation from happening. Believe me, I would if I could. But just like the painful onset of frostbite that gradually gives way to the deceptive relief of numbness, we will gradually re-learn how to endure winter small talk. Some part of us might turn black and fall off, but it’s on the inside. We probably don’t need it.
Complaining about winter is one of the most powerful traditions in any human culture that features heavy clothing and home heating. You can go back thousands of years in thousands of languages and translate some version of, “Cold enough for ya?” But I continue to hope that the development of our species will one day allow us to talk about weather in a more adaptive way. With seasonal temperatures and precipitation varying more often, we’re going to need to figure this out.
Weather, like our politics and culture, is just one more regular thing that’s going to keep getting weirder. So, when we encounter these small reminders of winters past, when the wind grates our faces like so much soft cheese, let us commit these moments to memory.
One thing that won’t change about Minnesota weather: you never know what you’ll get tomorrow.
Aaron J. Brown is an author and college instructor from northern Minnesota’s Iron Range. He writes the blog MinnesotaBrown.com and co-hosts the podcast “Power in the Wilderness” on Northern Community Radio. This piece first appeared in the Saturday, Dec. 7, 2024 edition of the Mesabi Tribune.
Speak Your Mind