When we set out on our trip, almost a year ago, I had visions of avoiding winter by following warm weather around the country. I brought lots of hot weather clothes and flip flops, with a smattering of layers for occasional encounters with cold or rain. I pictured continuously lounging in warm evening sunlight, drink in hand, tanned and relaxed.
We had a little of that.
But not enough. We enjoyed some sweet, sunny New England summer weather, but soon after we arrived in Georgia in November—the cold descended. And it never really let up. We stayed in Georgia for George’s shoulder surgery, but even if we had moved West as planned, we would have been dogged by unseasonably cold, wet weather. And we were more susceptible than usual because we were living in a small travel trailer and a poorly insulated beach cottage. To add insult to injury, while we were cold, shivering, and cold some more, Alaska had record high winter temperatures and little snow fall. We had traveled to the wrong and ugly end of the polar express.
It did not take me long to break down and buy a variety of pants, long sleeved shirts and coats, while giving the stink eye to my summer clothes taunting me from the little trailer closet. I needed all of those warm clothes when we left the South in early March and headed to Maine. We had snow and temperatures in the twenties on our trip north. Yuck.
It was still pretty cold when we arrived in Maine and we even had snow one night.
Then spring—tentatively but surely—started to make its presence known.
I’m looking forward to summer warmth. I hope it arrives. One year it didn’t. In 1816, after a large volcanic eruption in Indonesia, New England had the “Year Without a Summer,” with killing frosts and snow in June and July. Summer took a vacation and left old man winter to house sit. With our crazy current weather, who knows what summer will bring.