Waiting For Winter

Here in Connecticut, we just had our warmest December on record. Not only that, we didn't have any snow. Today, it's raining and the temperature is 56°. Tomorrow, we're headed into the 60's. The average high for this time of year is 36°. The jet stream has been stuck in place for several weeks now. So while we're getting Spring-like temperatures, the Rockies are getting dumped on with snow.

I realize that most people prefer the warm weather, but I don't. I like winter. I don't ski, but I do sled. But it isn't about that. I just like the cold. I like looking out my window and seeing a foot of snow. I like the adversity of Man vs. the Elements that comes to play. Maybe I just like the change of seasons. It seems like we've been in a holding pattern for late Fall since... late Fall. A seasonal Limbo.

There are, of course, pros and cons to all of this nice weather. My electric bill for November 6th through December 11th was better than expected. We averaged 16 less kWh per day than the same time period the previous year. The average temperature, according to CL&P was 7° warmer this year though. I should expect a similar bill next week or so. But at 15.278 cents/kWh, the highest rate in the continental US and twice the national average, I cringe whenever I get the bill. Electric heat. Electric water heater. You get the idea. And the rates are going up even more. Not only can I expect another 7.7% increase (though total bill or just power generation, I don't know), but FERC is hitting us (the whole country, I think) with another surcharge. The attorney generals from Massachusettes and Connecticut are fighting it as it will cost us $500 million and $200 million per year, respectively. If the money were being used for something useful, like improving energy efficiency or promoting alternative energy, I could stomach it. But CT AG Blumenthal says that the money will go to existing power generators without requiring them to build new plants or produce more electricity.

Another good thing is that I'm not burning nearly as much wood as I normally would by now. At this current rate, I'm certain that I'll have enough to get through the winter.

The lower electric bills make it easier to save up money for energy saving home improvements and brings the day when I can generate my own power that much closer. I figure that solar panels and wind turbines will be that much more affordable, more efficient, and easier to install when that day comes. For example, Southwest Windpower is now selling a wind turbine for only $10,000. It has an estimated energy production of 400 kWh per month assuming an average wind speed of 12 mph. Even with CT's electric rates, you'd be looking at over a decade for a ROI. But it would definitely offer some peace of mind that your carbon footprint was tremendously decreased, not to mention that no "geopolitical entanglements" were required either.

So what are some of the cons to this warm spell? Drought and Parasites. The cold weather kills off the harmful insects (gypsy moths and pine beetles) and parasites that attack people, animals, and plants, forcing them to re-start their populations over from scratch each year. Ticks, fleas, and adelgids are just a few of the many parasites susceptible to cold.

When I lived in Florida during the early 80's, the fleas there were brutal. If you had a pet that went outdoors, it was guaranteed to get fleas. None of the flea collars on the market worked at all. Flea baths would help for a while. Once the fleas got in your house, they went after people. Even if you caught them, and managed to crush its tough exoskeleton, there were thousands more elsewhere. From time to time, people would have to have exterminators bomb their homes. I remember having to leave the house for a couple hours while the pesticide did its job. One friend even volunteered for an experimental pesticide, which required her house to be registered with the state's EPA branch.

Another southern pest is the fire ant. Anyone who's accidentally walked onto a nest of fire ants can tell you how painful their bites are. Having your feet and legs covered with a swarm of warriors is excruciating. On the occasion when I'd get attacked, I'd run and dive into our pool with all my clothes on to rid myself of them and numb the pain. And they're as brutal to other animals as they are to people.

I'm not suggesting that fire ants and aggressive fleas are going to be in the Northeast this summer because of our mild winter. However, these guys will certainly be able to increase their range thanks to the warm weather that the entire eastern seaboard has enjoyed this year. But native pests like the adelgid are already here. I shudder to think what would happen if they didn't die off each year.

And what of the hibernators? If it's too warm to hibernate, and all the plants are asleep, what are these guys going to eat? My cats are still chasing tree squirrels this late into the season when both should be keeping warm, the former nestled in some burrow (not hibernating though) with its kin while the latter by a warm fire.

As for the increased potential for drought, you first have to understand what the snow pack does. A melting snow pack slowly releases its water into Spring, keeping the ground moist for plants for an extended period of time. Typically, it's long enough, when coupled with Spring rains, for the trees to unfurl their leaves and thus shade the ground, and their roots, from the hot sun. It's even more important on farms where there are no trees to provide shade. A snow drought doesn't guarantee problems, but it puts stress on the system. You couple that with a thriving parasite population and then you've really got trouble.

Now, one might say that it's ok, the system will bounce back. Yes, a year here or there of climatic stress and the ecosystem bounces back. Plant and animal life adapts or dies off, and something else moves in to inhabit its niche. Dutch elm disease and Chestnut blight have wreaked irrevocable damage. There's a street in town named Chestnut Ridge but good luck finding one. There's a chestnut tree in my yard that's still trying to survive. It typically shoots up a trunk an inch or so in diameter until it reaches 6 or 7 feet and then dies, only to repeat the process again.

Over time, oaks, maple, ash, beech and birch have filled in the gaps left by the Chestnut tree holocaust (I don't know how else to describe it. Megadeath perhaps? They're not extinct but may as well be.) But what if too many species of trees die off before others can fill in the gaps? 50 foot trees don't sprout up overnight.

It's one thing to deal with one opportunistic parasite when the seasons are normal or one year of drought (snow or rain), but what happens when both converge as a regular occurrence? What a terribly bleak landscape that would be.

I'll leave you with an example from my own experience. Another natural facet to my life in Florida was the abundance of Norfolk Island Pines. I lived on the east coast, where the sandy soil was a perfect home for them. They defined the landscape, towering above everything. They were at least twice as tall as the town water tower and as tall as the condos on the shoreline. They defined neighborhoods and each cluster of trees had a unique shape to them. They were the landmarks I navigated by. When the ocean breeze buffeted them, it made the most beautiful sound. And when you drove over the intercoastal bridge from the mainland, it was like looking at a mountain range.

On one visit to my parents in the mid-90's, I was dismayed to find that ALL of the giant trees were dead from a severe cold snap years before (They're native to the South Pacific, not Florida. They weren't able to deal with the extreme cold, though the palm trees did ok). The place felt alien without them. The skyline was all wrong. I had difficulty navigating my way around. I felt lost without them. I would be surprised when I found myself in places. "Oh, we're here already?" or "I was supposed to turn there." No matter how many times I went back to visit, it never felt like the place I used to call home.

The sense of loss, for me, was like the death of an old friend from your childhood. Having actually experienced that emotion before, I don't make that comparison lightly. And I'd rather not have to relive those feelings, here and now.

So let's have a snowy Winter already, ok?

\_/
DED

UPDATE (Sunday 1/7): Just read an article in today's paper about how the mild winter hasn't killed off the milfoil infestation in Candlewood Lake. Some background: Candlewood Lake is CT's largest lake. It's also man made. It's infested with watermilfoil, an invasive weed which chokes the waterways. It's a scourge to boaters. Anyway, each winter when the lake is drained to generate electricity, the milfoil and eelgrass are exposed to the bitter cold air and die off. They bounce back over the summer and the process is repeated. Not this year. Whether or not this is a good thing (boaters unable to use the lake) is subject to debate. Economically it's bad. Environmentally it's good (afaik).