The first week of December and Boston still hasn't had its first frost, much less a snowfall. The days have often been bright and warm with temperatures in the 50's. The day before last it hovered just below 70° all day with sunshine and brisk, warm southwest breezes.
A line of waterfowl flying high and fast due south, very late to migrate. Evidently the higher latitudes have been unseasonably warm as well.
Flowers lingering on, still blooming hopefully. The trees stripped bare by warm windy storms, all but the tenacious oaks insisting on their full tenure.
But as the days continue to shrink toward the solstice our endless Indian Summer might soon be over. Cold - 40°, not even sweater weather in some parts of the country - and snow, mere window dressing dustings - are predicted. And indeed the bright white cloud cover does seem to speak of snow. And I feel the familiar lassitude that a snowy day brings with it. Snowbound. No schools, all schools. The only earthly use for snow.
In September I predicted a mild winter. And that the Sox would lose. So far so good. Over the last four years I've called the weather, Red Sox and elections correctly - except for last year's rather rough winter - rough only in terms of the easy ride we've come to expect and deserve. But that was just a blip, an anomaly. The trend continues. Global warming is here to stay. My guilty pleasure. Living in Boston, maybe 3 feet above sea level, definitely guilty.
Orion, the hunter constellation, rising burning and bright in the east at a more convenient and ever-earlier evening viewing hour. Check this out to accompany the Great Hunter through the heavens.
Image: Bottle Glass. The North End, Boston.
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