On Thursday night for the first time in about a year, I slept with my bedroom window closed. Even when the temperature hovers in single digits or bottoms out below zero I typically crack it a little, because I like the fresh, cold air and what if coyotes strike up a conversation on the hillside? I want to hear it!
But Thursday saw our first blast of truly Arctic winter weather this year, the proverbial mercury dropping from the 30s to the low 20s over about a half hour in late afternoon. With that chill came a snow squall and the sidewalks needed some attention, so Andrew from #6 and I went out and made quick work of it. By evening, the thermometer read 11º and the wind had picked up, and that’s why I kept my window closed. A breeze blows the curtains wildly and the same noise allowance I enjoy for wildlife is a liability when the dumpster lids bang with every gust.
On Friday morning it was -10º and a stiff breeze had drifted the sidewalks and driveways. To save money, our HOA had decided to forego sidewalk shoveling services, so Ely from #7 was out at 5:15 clearing them. I joined him1 but it took so long to don my gear that he was nearly done by the time I emerged. A sharp wind buffeted my face and teared me up, and then the water froze in the corners of my eyes. Besides that, I was warm enough with a base layer underneath lined snow pants (thanks, Costco!), a fleece pullover under an obnoxiously yellow Burton snowboarding parka, which is hands down the warmest jacket I’ve ever owned and which I bought secondhand at the Sports Exchange a few years ago. Fleece lined hat and double-layer gloves and my new Manitobah boots. You can say people are crazy to live here but managing it comfortably just takes the right gear.
Well, unless you live in Browning. On Friday morning in Browning the air was sitting at a symmetrical -32º with winds taking the “real feel” to 56 below zero and potential for gusts to drop this wind chill to an astonishing -75º. I’m not sure any gear can handle that deep a thermometer reading. Browning and the northern plains in general are known for wind that blows semis over and closes roads. The highways are lined with snow fences to combat drifting over the lanes. Sometimes this ploy works.
I did not grow up with truly wintry conditions2 and always find snowdrifts aesthetically pleasing. That may sound utterly ridiculous to friends whose youthful lives were defined by shoveling drifts out of the driveway, off the deck, away from the front door.
Drifts entrance me, the way they alter and renew themselves with the insistent winds blowing through ragged mountain gaps and across the relentless plains. Their duney humps and gently sliced edges carve elegant curves, shaping sensuous swells and sketching a shadowscape in the bleak white where snow meets sky.
little-known fact: I love shoveling snow.
although a humid cold hovering around 20º plus a breeze is much more chilling than some of these dry low temperatures, in my opinion.
I'm wayyyyyy north in Yellowknife, Northwest Territories, Canada and we've gone as low as -47°F this week (before counting in wind chill). I have a Canada Goose onesie snowsuit that is ridiculous but also fantastic for our deep, deep cold spells. There's a layer of anxiety like a fog through town, everyone worrying about pipes freezing and propane for furnaces gelling* and cars starting. *Yep, like propane gas solidifying and then not flowing and therefore not running the furnace...didn't know that could happen until I moved here.
I'm with ya on the shoveling, love it!! Although not 4x over 36 hours, that just makes me cranky!
I LOVE WINTER & will trade a 'dry' cold for sunny any day.
-56, -74, mind boggling