With the most recent snowfall many thoughts of previous east end snowstorms have come to mind. Many of us can recall epic ones. There is a book, The History of the White Mountains, written by Lucy Crawford. It was published in 1845. In this historic book Ms. Crawford writes, how when she was very young, the winters were colder and the snowfalls much deeper. Now sixty-something years old, I feel the same way.
When I was a child, snowstorms meant days off from school, sleigh riding, building snow forts and snowmen. I remember the excitement to see how deep the snow would be. As I grew the chore of shoveling snow was added to that list. Then I wasn’t as thrilled for it to be a deep snowfall. Of course, we all have vivid memories of doing those things years ago with some extremely pleasing memories and some, not so much.
I remember my first Hamptons Blizzard back around 2002. I was at a home in the Northwest Woods of East Hampton, for an extended weekend. Watching it snow through the big glass window/door was wonderful while a fire burned majestically in a huge fireplace. Bottles of wine were sipped, and it was quite a night. The next day the lesson of the reality of over two feet of snow in the Hamptons was learned. After shoveling a few hours to create a path to get my car out of the driveway I arrived at the road. The hurrah was short lived. The road was blanketed with snow practically waist high.
The long walk into town was memorable. A few years later while living in the Springs when there was a mighty snowfall, I would cross country ski into the village. The east end is beautiful with a deep blanket of snow. Just not convenient for driving to work etc.
I still remember my first sled. It was a Flexible Flyer. It may have once belonged to my older brother and sister, but now it was mine. At my earliest ages, we lived in the Bronx near Pelham Parkway. I used to sleigh ride down a hilly road, always stopping when there were cars. Back then we used to climb the snow gathered by the snowplows as if we were climbing Mt. Everest. Playing king of the hill was tough if you were the smallest or youngest.
It was around this time I built my first walled snow fortress. I would stand behind it and have snowball wars. It was never fun getting a direct shot to the face and then have the snow get inside the jacket.
As for building a snowman my best memories are of building them with my young children. Rolling the snow to make huge snowballs to be the torso was quite the ordeal. Selecting hats, scarves and trying to find stones for chest buttons. The thing was to build them large enough so that they would still be standing long after the snow in yard had melted away. It was sad to eventually see the snowman collapse.
Now that I am sixty-something there are no more sleigh rides, snowmen, or snow forts. What there is now is the ritual of digging the cars out and clearing away as much snow as possible. It takes longer as I go slower due to age. However, there are now better snow shovels with angles and better designs. Back in the day, I often used a basic heavy metal shovel. Now for the next few days I have big snow mounds at the entrance of my driveway. My neighbor has a snowblower. If the wind is just right, it blows their snow onto my driveway!
