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Understanding Winter


Understanding Winter by Thomas M. SpringerLooking out the back door of my Michigan farmhouse, I see the morning sun creep above the frosted beige carpet of a soybean field. For a moment, it oozes like a globe of orange jelly between the oaks that stand in silhouette against the field's eastern boundary. Then, freed from the horizon's grasp, it illuminates a ribbon of high clouds in regal shades of gold and tangerine.

It's a fleeting and glorious picture, but you'd never know it by listening to the local radio station. The meteorologist, from his soundproofed cell in an urban office building 25 miles away, can only warn of the --1 degree wind chill. "It's a terribly cold morning," he says, a sentiment echoed by his fellow disc jockey. Both sound petrified by the thought of a normal winter's day in Michigan.


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