By Keith Musselman for The Conversation Another round of powerful atmospheric rivers is hitting California, following storms in January and February 2023 that dumped record amounts of snow. This time, the storms are warmer, and they are triggering flood warnings as they bring rain higher into the mountains – on top

Right now, the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens is everything you need from an outdoor adventure. The snow covering its ground hasn’t been covered in asphalt dust or pissed on by your neighbor’s dog. It’s home to willow trees, cedars, cherry trees, pine trees, etc caked with fluffy white flakes that have

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So here’s the deal.  I went snowboarding in Tahoe last weekend for my friend’s birthday, which was really fun, especially if you enjoy masochism, but it ended up being kind of expensive.  See, between the lift tickets, equipment rentals, round-trip bus fare  and a plethora of jello shots at the

NYC’s wintery weather is reminding me a lot of Ithaca where I went to school. Except our snow will melt sometime before April and my nosehairs don’t freeze upon leaving my apartment. Because its life is so much shorter, I very rarely hate the snow in NYC. Sure, I curse

Admittedly, I’m a little distracted while I’m writing this post. I keep staring out my window and watching the snow. It’s in that phase where the flakes are big and fluffy and beautiful. But if you’re sick of the snow and plan to spend the weekend hibernating, you should go

So, um, yeahh, it’s been several days since the East Coast Snowpocalypse 2K10, and ummm, there’s still a shitload of snow everywhere. Especially if you live in any of the outer boroughs. At the time of this writing anyway, I STILL can’t walk on either of the sidewalks bordering the

The only shoes I brought home for Christmas were my cowboy boots, and I’m regretting that now that I’m heading back to NYC. They’re not built to be snow shoes, and I’m going to have to wrap my feet in plastic bags when I land. As I’m prepping for the

Uh oh, life calling? The office/grind/job/suckfest spamming your life with calls and emails about when you’ll be showing up? Cursing mother nature for her malicious intent? Well, young one, calm yourself. In your spastic neuroses you’ve lost your appreciation for the simple joys. You see all that white powdery goodness