I look up at the dark sky the day following the Solstice and wonder, what's the weather like in The States right now? The day before my girlfriend took pictures of the Solstice eclipse, the likes of which last happened in the early 1600s. I had to miss the momentous event, it was about 12 noon here in Afghanistan when it did happen, yet another thing this deployment has taken from me. It's already kept me from watching my stepson's birth, I've only had two weeks or so to meet my girlfriend of almost 7 months in person, and that was about 4 months ago. Every day here seems like two, and every week here only reminds me of how many more I have left.
The snow in Maine is heavy and deep. The ground is likely covered in a beautiful dress of purest virgin white, only occasionally sprinkled with conifer needles and bark. I remember last winter's sky was heavy and gray, it looked almost like it was going to fall down on everything all at once (indeed, several times it almost seemed that way). Snowmobilers would ride the trails, pedestrians would complain of the cold, and drivers would be cautious to stay on the road (I failed to once, but that's another story entirely).
Every winter I had the important responsibility of pushing the snow out of the driveway with a shovel, piling massive banks beside my dooryard. When the snow froze and turned into ice I had the duty of taking a heavy pick to the clear, slippery menace. Years of doing this taught me the importance of preparation (and rock salt) for any given meteorological event involving large amounts of frozen or otherwise solid water. I often had to break the ice on the stairs in front of the door so the door could be opened. It was dull, repetitive work, but somebody had to do it, so I did.
The scenery here in Afghanistan is nothing so divine as a New England winter. The air is a little chilly in the morning and snow has yet to fall, I have a feeling I'm going to have a brown Christmas. The only major weather that happened today was a windstorm that kicked some dust up into my face, though nothing like it had before in the summer. I haven't even seen any sign of rain for probably months. It's interesting how water falling from the sky can remind you of home. I almost can't wait to come home, step out the door and nearly fall facefirst into freezing, soft snow.
I only have a few months left here, I hope they pass quickly, there's nothing like scalding hot soup on a bone-chilling day.