Record-Breaking Warmth

Wednesday, January 14, 2025

Monday, January 12th, broke a remarkable record. It was the warmest January day in Central Oregon since 1920. Yes—more than a century ago was the last time a mid-winter temperature matched Monday’s. That 100-plus-year-old record quietly fell, without much ceremony—no fanfare, just a few weather-related announcements. And there I was, feeling the mildness and sunlight, noticing the odd sensation of stepping outside without first bracing myself.

Probably like everyone else, I looked around and wondered what this warmth was doing to the season. Snow should still be lingering, but there was none. Ice should be stubborn over my chickens’ water bowls, but ditto. I scanned the nearby treetops—bird-watching is one of my everyday pleasures—and wondered about the birds. Were they even slightly confused? Were their internal calendars, like mine, a little out of sync? Even the air felt different—less like January, more like some invasive in-between month.

Part of me celebrated the comfort of that warm day. After all, comfort is comfort. But there was also a strange dissonance—another reminder that nature keeps its own counsel, and that the seasons might be shifting beneath our feet. The warmth was pleasant and unsettling all at once—belonging to January while feeling nothing like January.

Whenever something captures my attention, I tend to look for meaning tucked inside it. Yesterday’s record-breaking warmth nudged me to pay closer attention to the weather itself. One of my mantras is that pausing and looking twice often reminds me that whatever I thought I knew isn’t entirely the truth.

This photo—taken years ago, on a typical January 12—shows what our weather used to look like.

My “second look” on this new warmest January day offered a quiet insight: we are all changing, and constantly are adjusting to change, even when it arrives disguised as good weather.

Real weather records remind us of time. Monday’s warmth happened to us in real time, and on a real January day. And I found myself standing right on the margin—between time and reality—grateful to feel informed, and awed anew by nature’s power.

— Diana