On Saturday we had our first real snowstorm of the season, an actual nor’easter. Here is what weather.gov has to say about nor’easters: “A Nor’easter is a storm along the East Coast of North America, so called because the winds over the coastal area are typically from the northeast. These storms may occur at any time of year but are most frequent and most violent between September and April. ”
That, in a nutshell, is a nor’easter. Really, never something you look forward to.
In our area, this storm did not bring much snow, at least by Maine standards—five inches, tops. However, what this nor’easter lacked in snow, it more than made up for in damage. The snow was heavy, and there was high wind. A perfect combination for branches to fall on power lines and knock out power. By Saturday night, around 200,000 households were without power, no small thing in a state with just over a million people.
Fortunately Clif and I did not lose our power, and we were both very, very grateful.
The storm came late in the afternoon, and here are some snow pictures taken just before dusk, when we went out to shovel and scoop for the first time.
The snow frosted the arrangement on the front porch.
The snow coated the hedges, and underneath our Christmas lights glowed.
The snow clung to our trusty winter companions—a bucket of salt for melting icy patches and a shovel.
The snow fell in the front yard, making everything look like Christmas to those of us who live in the north.
The next day, the snow stopped, and the sky cleared. In anticipation of the storm, we had taken in the patio chairs and the little tables. I have a feeling that there won’t be many socially-distanced visits until spring. To me, the patio looks lonesome.
Finally, here is Clif, looking like a man of the north. He had to use the Great Blue Scoop because what little snow we had was too heavy and packed for Little Green, our valiant electric snow thrower.
In Maine, we must be prepared with all sorts of devices that move snow.
Notes From the Hinterland 