Over the past two years Minnesota winters have been… “weird”. Between seasons with so much snow that we lost massive amounts of trees from heavy snow, to two years in a row with almost no snow on the ground. It’s been troubling to say the least. I believe what science is telling us about our changing climate, not just because I trust and believe the data that’s being presented, but because it’s quickly becoming my lived experience.

Growing up in Minnesota (Twin Cities) there was a rhythm and pattern to winters. We’d get some early dumps of snow that may or may not stick around till Christmas, and then January through March were our opportunity to get outside and play. We’d get snow bitter cold in late January and lots of dumps of fluffy precipitation during February, and even an occasional covering in March. It was a somewhat predictable pattern and made Minnesota winters a fun and tolerable season. After all, if you’re going to have cold, you might as well have snow to play in.

Yet, our changing climate is making this traditional pattern much harder to achieve. In particular, the past two years we’ve experienced what I’m calling a “failure to launch” when it comes to winter. Endless grey days of moderate temperatures with no snow to be seen. Finally, somewhere in February we get a few weeks of traditional winter and then it disappears again quickly in March. Not what any of us were hoping for.

Up in northern Minnesota this year started slow, but finally took on a more traditional feel in recent weeks. Yet, they’re still below their yearly precipitation average (last year was devastating). Thankfully the recent weather has helped the tourism and outdoor businesses up there that rely so heavily on cold snowy conditions. Yet, it still feels like things just aren’t what they used to be.

I’m not sure there’s much of a point to this whole musing, but it’s been on my mind since today (February 9th) is the first time all year that I’ve been able to pull out the snowshoes. We got in a lovely two mile hike at Elm Creek with our friend Beth, with temperatures hovering around -1°F (-18°C). The sun was warm on our faces, the snow was soft and squeaky underfoot, and we felt alive as we traversed a landscape in slumber. Venturing briefly onto frozen creeks, tapping our poles on tree branches to watch the snow dislodge and fall to the ground… all things that can’t happen without a proper winter.

I know what the science says, and there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to believe it. But the truth is that I need to savor these days because at some point in the future, I may not get to experience them the same way anymore.