The changing of the seasons in New England always make me think of “Monty Python and the Holy Grail.” Not because the swallows start to fly back south with their coconuts, but because of a short animated narration in the film.
“Winter changed into spring,” it begins. “Spring changed into summer. Summer changed back into winter. And winter gave spring and summer a miss, and went straight on into autumn.”
Here, however, it seems to be autumn that’s toying with us. We’ve had a few bona-fide fall days, but for much of it, the season has seemed to teeter back and forth between summer and winter. Just over a week ago, I was walking through town in a T-shirt one day, and staring out the window at snowflakes the next.
I feel somewhat stuck between the two opposing seasons, myself.
The spot between fall and winter is, I think, the worst seasonal transition of the year. When winter melts back into spring, we rejoice — unless it comes too quickly and results in floods. When summer starts to set in, the world’s already lush and green — it just gets a bit warmer. And when summer turns to fall, it’s a welcome reprieve from the heat of August. We turn off our air conditioners and don’t have to fire up our furnaces just yet.
But when fall starts to give way to winter, the mercury drops, the sun sets before most people get out of work, and we start waking up to frost on our windshields. It’s not fun.
Though I enjoy being outdoors all year long, November often has me in a bit of a rut. While the cold is nothing compared to February, these barely below-freezing days of late fall are enough to chill me to the bone. Like someone who’s just moved here from someplace far to the south, I’m simply not acclimated to it yet.
Judging by the handful of snow-showers we’ve had already, we’re headed for a real New England winter, and I’m looking forward to it. But, for now, I wait.
The beauty of fall has faded to brown. Gone are the brilliant reds and yellows of October. But winter’s wonder has yet to arrive with its sparkling, ice-covered trees and animal tracks to follow through the snowy woods. I can’t yet ski, snowshoe or take my soon-to-be-2-year-old out for his first sledding excursion. The water’s a bit cold to kayak, and too warm to walk upon.
Shotgun season starts today, so I’m told. But since I’m not a hunter, it doesn’t give me any reason to wake up early and head into the woods. It just means I’ll have to wear my goofy orange vest if I want to take a hike without being mistaken for a deer. Another excuse to stay indoors.
Also, cabin fever hasn’t set in. I don’t mind being stuck inside for a while, catching up on housework and movies and settling for short walks downtown. That will soon change.
Others, though, are more gung-ho than I, as I was reminded by a recent Facebook post from friend and former Recorder features editor Adam Orth. Back in Franklin County after spending some time in warmer climes, Orth posted a picture from his kayak as he paddled Barton Cove one November night. Heck, he’s been known to hit the water when part of it is already wearing a skim of ice.
So, readers, I implore you: help me get out of my pre-winter rut. How do you enjoy the outdoors during the colder months, and where do you like to do so? Maybe you’ll see your late-fall favorite in one of my December columns.
David Rainville is a former reporter and editor for The Recorder, who now works as a machinist. You can reach him at daverain82@gmail.com