Abstract

I was fortunate to grow up on a pond in New England, the site of many enjoyable days of ice skating in the winter. On weekends there were bonfires, hot chocolate, and pick‐up hockey. After a snowfall, enterprising neighbors shoveled off rinks, and sometimes we were still skating as the spring crocuses started to bloom. Summer weather was equally lovely — warm days contrasted with cool nights. We had just a few 90‐degree days every July when my siblings and I fought to sleep closest to the fan. These were days before climate change when seasons kept pace with expectations based on the geographic area. These days are no more.

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