Colonial Winter

I have always liked the term Indian Summer, which is a fairly common term in the northern U.S. I have always taken it to mean unseasonably warm weather in Fall after the first cold spell. I always wondered where the term came from, but never did much research on it. Being a historian, I should probably actually delve into some books, but I took the easy way out. According to Wikipedia, the term has three potential origins, two of which are to the Amerindian population. Yet, if that is the case, the insult backfired, because Indian Summer may just be the most wonderful time of the year. For me the term always elicited a feeling of warmth and happiness, made me think of autumnal oranges and yellows. It is quite simply the last gasp of summer.

However, lately I have started thinking about what the opposite of Indian Summer would be. Every year it happens... the first burst of spring occurs and everyone is jubilant, it's sixty and sunny, not a cloud in the sky and I go to the park and play baseball. Yet, it never lasts and pretty soon it's hailing, the skies are grey and the wind is howling outside my window. But, it doesn't have a name, that I know of... so I've decided to call it Colonial Winter. I think it creates a nice verbal dichotomy and reminds me of the Revolutionary War at the same time... the little Ice Age, Valley Forge, the color blue. I wonder if it'll catch on. Unfortunately for us here at BSD, yesterday was back in the forties and rainy... not quite a full blown colonial winter, but not the nice spring I'd been getting used to.