My Little Snowfall Tracking Adventure
So, I’ve been living in Boston for a good while now. If there’s one thing you learn pretty quick, it’s that the weather here, well, it keeps you on your toes. Especially when it comes to snow. We get our fair share, believe me. Sometimes more than our fair share, if you ask me!
I remember this one particular storm. It was just coming down like crazy. The TV weather folks were talking big numbers, and for once, they weren’t just hyping it up. It was the real deal. That’s when I decided, okay, this is it. I’m actually going to try and keep a proper record of this monster dump.
Getting Started – Simple is Key
I didn’t go all high-tech or anything, you know. Just grabbed a few basic things I had around the house:
- A sturdy ruler – you know, the wooden kind or a thick plastic one that doesn’t get all floppy in the cold.
- My old beat-up notebook and a pencil. Pencils are great because they don’t freeze up or run like pens can when it’s damp.
- And of course, my warmest gloves, a good hat, and my winter coat. It was bitter cold out there, the kind that bites your face.
The Process – Out in the White Stuff
First things first, I had to find a good spot to measure. You can’t just stick a ruler anywhere and call it a day. The wind is a big factor; it creates drifts here and bare patches there. So, I looked for a nice flat, open area in my backyard. Somewhere away from the house where snow might slide off the roof, and not right under any big trees that would block the snow.
A little trick I sometimes use: I put out a small, flat board, like a piece of plywood, before the snow really starts piling up. The idea is that the snow collects evenly on it, giving you a clean surface to measure from. Sometimes it works like a charm, other times the wind just laughs and buries it or blows it clean. You never know!
Anyway, I bundled up and tramped out there. The snow was still coming down hard, really thick flakes. It’s actually pretty amazing being out in it when it’s that heavy. Everything gets so quiet and muffled. For the first measurement, I carefully pushed the ruler straight down into the snow until it hit the board I’d laid out (or what I hoped was solid ground if my board was already a lost cause). You have to be gentle, you know, so you don’t compact the snow too much with the ruler itself and get a false low reading.
It’s honestly trickier than it sounds. Sometimes the top layer is all light and fluffy, and then underneath it’s a bit denser, maybe even a little icy if there was some sleet mixed in earlier. I usually take a couple of pokes in slightly different spots in my chosen area, just to try and get a decent average. Then I’d scribble it down in my notebook right then and there – date, time, and the number of inches. My fingers would be pretty much frozen solid even with good gloves by the time I got back inside after that first reading.
I decided I’d do this every few hours, especially while the storm was really raging. It was kinda cool, in a nerdy way, seeing those numbers climb up on my notepad. Like, ‘Wow, another two inches in just three hours! This thing is serious!’
What I Figured Out From All This
You know, keeping a record like this, even a super simple one like mine, it’s surprisingly satisfying. You’re not just experiencing the snow, you’re sort of… documenting a little piece of nature’s raw power. It’s not scientific, not by a long shot. I mean, the official weather guys have their heated gauges and super specific methods. But for a regular person like me, it gives you a real, tangible sense of the storm’s impact.
And another thing, that old notebook, it’s got a few different entries in it now from various storms over the years. It’s actually kind of fun to flip back through it sometimes. ‘Oh yeah, remember that massive blizzard back in ’15? Look here, I wrote down 18 inches for that one in my yard!’ It brings back memories, you know?
So yeah, that’s basically my little system. Nothing complicated, nothing fancy. Just a regular guy, a trusty ruler, and a whole lot of Boston snow. It’s a small thing, but it connects me a bit more to what’s happening outside my window.