Dear Paul Revere

Updating our greatest fleeting guest on the most important details of modern life in Medford

By Nate Rubright

Dear Paul Revere,

We just experienced a very momentous day in Medford. No, it was not a holiday, it was even better. We just had what I like to call ‘The First Day of the End of Winter’

It happened on a recent Saturday. It was a day when the cracks in winter’s unrelenting facade finally became evident in the form of a perfectly sunny, clear, 55-degree Saturday. It is a day that is so warm, so distinct from the grey coldness that large vernal ponds of dirty snow-melt rapidly form between the icy piles of slush that line the street. The entire city emerges from the winter doldrums all at once. Adults and children alike walk the sidewalks without a winter coat in sight. While driving down High Street I even saw two guys running past the library without shirts, their lack of clothing a defiant signal to the sun that despite the previous months, it will not be greeted as a stranger.

I got to thinking that I can remember this day pretty vividly from winter’s past and I wondered if this is something you also experienced. Surely there was a day every year where it seemed that winter was finally losing steam. We’ve got a pretty standard five-days-on, two-days-off week that I’m almost certain was not how it worked back then. For that reason the concept of Saturday as we have it now might get lost in translation. I also realize that a limiting factor for you is that you do not have predictive weather resources. This might blow your tri-corner hat right off, but we have a way of knowing what the weather is going to be as far as 10 days out. I mean, they sometimes miss some rain or snow here and there and we get pretty whiney about it, but compared to Poor Richard's Almanac and that definitive ache in your knee, it’s definitely a significant improvement.

Now, I don't want to confuse you, this day does not mean that winter is over. As you know, New England does not give up the ghost of any season that easily. This is why I named it the first day of the end of winter. There will still be that all-important string of snow–sleet–freezing rain that absolutely dismantles any thought of an expedited spring. We have all of March and April to complain about the awful weather while waiting at the bus stop. But, we get to complain knowing that the end of winter is nigh, it is just a matter of time now.

Lastly, and I don’t know if you have ever seen this, but when the snow starts to melt and those large puddles form between snowbanks, folks crossing the street are sort of left with no good options but to try to splash through the middle of them. The problem is that the melted water is so dirty from salt and street grime that there is absolutely no way to know how deep it is before stepping in. I want to take this opportunity to recognize the person crossing at Lawrence and Governors Avenue that confidently jumped over the snowbank and into a puddle that turned out to be almost a foot deep. I am sorry I laughed a little bit. I was mostly happy about the weather.

Nate in the Heights

Nate Rubright is Medford resident.