The Mast-Head: Snow Day

Midafternoon on Tuesday, as the snow seemed to be tapering off in East Hampton, I headed out from the Star office to have a look around. Though the roads were clear, few drivers were about. A couple of cars were parked at Main Beach but only one at Georgica when I stopped to watch the surf.

Main Street was empty, too, as was Newtown Lane. All the boutiques were closed. So, it appeared, was the hardware store. The food market across the street was open, but that was it; Mary’s, Villa, the lumberyard, Hampton Country Market, the new beverage place, the electric supply store, the library, Guild Hall, and everything else was dark.

Two village plow drivers pushed snow around at the beach; another cleared the Chase bank parking lot. It was quiet. I passed very few other trucks. Ice broke free of the branches above and hit my windshield with a loud thwack.

It’s hard to know if my memory is right, but I recall that a snowstorm like the one we had this week would not have shut down East Hampton quite so much. If you could get around, you would work. Now we hear about bombogenesis in the North Atlantic. Ordinary winter storms get cutesy, post-millennial sounding names that bring to mind contestants on “The Bachelor” or something. We stock up, hunker down, and catch up on shows we missed.

The kids, though, know better when the ground is white and there is no school. Ellis and his cousin and a friend got together around lunchtime at my sister’s place on Accabonac Road and made what I gather were record-size snowballs and rolled boulders although the heavy snow was too sticky for sledding. They shrieked and ran around until they were too wet and out of breath to go on.

Maybe we had it wrong those decades ago when we showed up almost no matter what. If we nestle down on the couch in a soft blanket with a book while the dog sleeps nearby, the world will nevertheless spin on. The work can wait for another day.