SKETCHBOOK 23: 2-21-2022
I wanted to do a couple of drawings all in green. No flowers, just leaves. Maybe it’s the yearning for spring to come. It usually hits me this time of year. We get warm spells in February that feel very spring-like, but usually the thermometer pops back down to very cold for the first couple of week in March. It is far from rare for us to have heavy snow in March, too.
March is not spring this far north on this coast. March, until late in the month, is still winter and many are the blizzards we’ve had in March. I was born a few days after a huge blizzard.
There was the biggest blizzard ever on my birthday — March 11 through March 14 in 1888. The Great Blizzard of 1888 or the Great White Hurricane (March 11–14, 1888), was one of the most severe recorded blizzards in American history.
The storm paralyzed the East Coast from the Chesapeake Bay to Maine, as well as the Atlantic provinces of Canada. Snow fell from 10 to 58 inches (25 to 147 cm) in parts of New Jersey, New York, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Connecticut with sustained winds of more than 45 miles per hour (72 km/h). It produced snowdrifts of more than 50 feet (15 meters) which no matter what scale you use is an enormous amount of snow. With everything closed, people were confined to their homes for up to a week. Trains and telegraph lines were unusable. Soon thereafter, New York decided it should bury it’s electrical lines. Despite the many blizzards here in Massachusetts, including the immense blizzard of 1978, we still haven’t buried ours. Or fixed the train tracks — but every year, they promise they will and every year, they won’t spend the money.
So, you might say I “relate” to blizzards. I don’t have to like them, but they seem to follow me.