April 11, 2003
Southerly
A long streak of hot muggy weather, continuing well into autumn, had lulled us into a false sense of endless summer. This illusion was brought to an abrupt end this week with our first real southerly of the year.
Southerlies in New Zealand are icy blasts from the Antarctic. In the winter they can bring days of freezing wind and rain. Further south, they bring snow. Every year at this time, I shiver and complain my way through the shock of the first southerly.
My husband always says to me: I don't know how you managed to survive Maine winters.
And I always say to him: But it's different there.
And it is. In rural Maine, we prepared for winter. There were whole rituals around preparing for winter - putting snow treads on the car, taking summer screens off the windows and putting on storm windows, pulling the winter clothing and jackets and snowboots out from storage. My parents even used to preserve fruit and vegetables from the garden to have during the winter months.
Here in New Zealand, or at least in Wellington, winter seems to take everyone by surprise. We are still wearing our summer clothing when the first southerly sweeps through. We huddle at bus stops after work, dressed in linen and cotton and open-toed sandals, cursing the fact that we did not wear our overcoats and warm sweaters.
A common refrain rises up and can be heard long into the winter: "I had no idea it was going to turn southerly today."
Posted by deb at April 11, 2003 09:12 AM