Long Island weather is notorious for rarely doing anything halfway. After days of moping in gray drizzle, it bursts into sunlight, causing the Atlantic to gleam like a piece of glass. Occasionally, like this week, it chooses to try everyone’s patience all at once.
Parts of Suffolk County saw snowfall totals surpass 20 inches by 7 a.m. Monday. It was 22.5 inches before sunrise, according to Islip. Even well-known roads were being transformed into shifting white corridors by the sharp gusts that were blowing the snow sideways. Blizzard conditions were declared by the National Weather Service. The lighthouse, whose beam was diluted into a pale halo, was hardly visible through the rushing snow when you were standing close to Montauk Point.
| Category | Details |
|---|---|
| Region | Long Island |
| Counties | Nassau County & Suffolk County |
| Recent Event | Blizzard “’26” Nor’easter |
| Reported Snowfall | Up to 22.5 inches (Islip) |
| Wind Gusts | Tropical-storm force gusts reported |
| Travel Status | Travel bans in effect during peak storm |
| Power Utility | PSEG Long Island |
| Emergency Oversight | Kathy Hochul (Governor of New York) |
| Forecast Authority | National Weather Service |
| Reference | https://www.weather.gov/okx |
On the Long Island Expressway, traffic slowed to a crawl and in some spots came to a complete stop. Heavy ridges of snow were pushed toward shoulders that were already buried by plows moving in erratic formations. Watching an SUV struggle up a slight incline while snow continues to fall at what seems like an inch per minute is humbling. Residents may have become used to these storms, but when totals surpass projections, there’s always that moment of incredulity.
In parts of Nassau and throughout Suffolk County, travel was prohibited. Noting that significant pileups had been avoided, Governor Kathy Hochul commended the populace for paying attention to warnings. The paradox of contemporary forecasting is that catastrophes seem almost unimpressive to those who pay attention. However, rather than being an overreaction, the quiet roads are proof that coordination is working.
Town offices closed, and ferry crossings were cancelled on the East End. Local store owners in Montauk swept snow off stoops, which would be covered again in an hour. It has a cadence: shovel, coffee, shovel again. At one point, thousands of customers were without power, according to PSEG Long Island, with workers wearing insulated suits underneath drooping lines. Here, snow serves a practical purpose in addition to being beautiful.
One gets the impression from watching this happen that the weather on Long Island is in communication with the Atlantic. Offshore, nor’easters intensify by consuming temperature differentials before crashing into beaches that were windswept but empty only a few weeks prior. Under sculpted drifts, dunes blend into frozen surf on the same shoreline that draws summer crowds.
Whether storms like this are becoming more common or just more memorable is still up in the air. Longtime locals shrug and bring up the Blizzard of ’78, while climatologists blame storm intensity on warming oceans. Depending on the story one wishes to tell, memory tends to soften or exaggerate extremes. The unpredictable weather—snow turning to sleet, sleet turning to rain, and then refreezing overnight into dangerous ice—feels indisputable.
While the city frequently makes the news, Long Island handles storms differently. Longer driveways, more exposed power lines, and a greater reliance on automobiles are all consequences of suburban sprawl. Plowing Manhattan’s grid is not the same as clearing a small East Hampton side street. This area has longer infrastructure, and under stress, that infrastructure may deteriorate.
Nevertheless, resilience exists. Warming centers are opening in coastal neighborhoods, snow shovelers are waiting in line for city emergency jobs that pay hourly wages, and neighbors are checking on elderly residents. Boots stomping off packed snow at entrances, community centers filled silently in Rockaway and parts of Nassau. These minor reactions are what make weather more about people than it is about the weather.
Forecasts indicated that temperatures would drop into the low 20s overnight and that snowfall would taper off between 4 and 7 p.m. by late afternoon. That drop is important. Refreezing can turn controllable slush into days-long black ice. A milder pattern may ensue, allowing for gradual melt rather than weeks of frozen mounds, officials said, in contrast to the previous storm. That is likely what local retail investors hope for because an extended cold can keep customers indoors.
Nevertheless, it’s difficult to ignore how fast the plot changes. Southold’s WinterFest events attract large crowds one week, thanks to sunny skies and gentle breezes. The same streets are engulfed by snowdrifts the next day. The weather on Long Island pivots rather than just changing.
Its volatility might be a feature of its nature. Every summer, beaches that have been beaten by winter winds reopen with gentle sand and steady tides. Even when there is a lot of snow along the docks in Sag Harbor or Greenport, high tides still rise and fall on time. The land continues, reshapes, and absorbs.
Residents will clear vents, dig out mailboxes, and compare totals with neighbors as plows make their last passes and the storm edges offshore. Gray calm will envelop the Atlantic. And the weather on Long Island will appear nearly controllable for a short while before the next front forms somewhere over the horizon. It will be unpredictable, to be sure, but strangely familiar in its extremes.