The two-hundred teapot winter has arrived

Halloween is over a week away, but that has not deterred winter from making its first appearance of the year. I woke up this morning to find a thin blanket of snow on the ground and temperatures well below freezing.

Today's morning winterscape

I have consoled myself with half-felt reminders that it is the oppressive heat and humidity of the summers I have experienced in the Eastern and Southern U.S. that afflict me the most severely. My half-felt reminders are about as warmly received by my spirit as backhanded compliments or advice from back-seat drivers.

I wonder about winter in the mountains of Kyrgyzstan. I fear it will be like an unwanted house guest, arriving unexpectedly, lingering far too long, and once departed leaving chilly memories that send shivers down one's spine well into summer.

I have thought today about the coldest winter day I ever experienced, in Ithaca, New York. Or the time I visited Niagara Falls one early February when the mist drifting off the falls froze instantly the moment it touched my clothing. I'm afraid the coming chill will make these frigid moments of the past seem tropical by comparison.

It is true that misery loves company. I have seen the looks of dismay on the faces of some of our students who have never experienced snow or temperatures below freezing before now. Rather than inspiring me to empathetic heights, instead, somehow, it comforts me to know that my frozenness will be shared with others. It's truly appalling that sometimes I find that I suffer less when someone suffers more. Instead of feeding my "Inner-Trump" by enjoying the suffering of others, I think it will be far better to soothe my misery by making pots of hot tea for my fellow sufferers, because spreading warmth is usually more satisfying than enjoying scalding cups of schadenfreude.

I look out my apartment window this evening and see that the puddles of moisture from the snow that has melted this day are freezing back up again. I'm becoming convinced it's going to be at least a two-hundred teapot winter when all is said and done.