I came back to this thought. its a fun one. eventually, land ownership and faction territory issues would cause cities to form. these cities then face a winter of centuries, laughed off by the sons of the autumn as a myth, no-one alive has seen it.

during summer, the population would boom, with many cheap buildings designed to be comfortable in summer would be built and purchased by families whose' grandparents had never felt the cold. As the season changes the people in the inadequate housing have to build, steal, or fight for a better home. Or make an igloo. It would take modern government and regulation of structures to be sure that all homes were adequate, and I imagine that modern housing would just barely cut it for winters so long. every house would need to be much more efficient or fuel would become too expensive and the lower class would begin to freeze.

how quickly do evergreen saplings take root and grow in the winter? until coal and oil are discovered, 200 year winters might exhaust the wood supply in whole regions, or even possibly cause an extinction of some trees, harming the ecosystem forever.

story time.

here you are, 25 years old and looking at your first home. its a nice place, 2 stories, modern. There are great big windows overlooking the river. You're young and fresh out of college, and You're about to bury yourself in debt for a long time purchasing it. its the hottest its ever been in living memory, and has been your whole life. It's the last of the 20 years of august. You settle down with your girlfriend and make your way in the world.

..........

Fast forward, you're 45 now, the house is nearly paid off, and the car. Its late October, 55F outside. Its been pleasantly cool for 15 years now. you start wearing a jacket and a few years back you bought a small heater for your home, you finally caved in to your wife and two beautiful daughters. electricity is cheap, the demand fell drastically. one company bought the others as the weather grew cooler and the stockholders abandoned them. You remember reading that the other day. The more you know, right?

..........

shake the snow globe and pan in. there you are at home, 65, with a shovel in your hand. you bought a snow blower 5 years ago, when the snow stopped melting off the drive. Damn you hate shoveling snow. You keep thinking you should get to fixing up the house some, its getting drafty. You finally hire a roofing company to come out and put on a new roof. The man told you that soon you would have to start shoveling off the roof, as it will stop melting off as it gets colder. The house wasn't designed with snow in mind. His brother ran a construction company that could fix it though. It honestly needed it, so you call and meet with him. His quote is more than you want to pay, so you decide you can don't need it when he can't be talked down. As it got colder, power became expensive again, so you rented an insulation blower and blew fresh insulation into your walls and attic, and replaced your windows. there, good as new. You put the house up for sale, but its a summer home, and no-one is buying those. the media has people running scared of homes built before the weather changed. They have been since the snow fell.

..........

Blink, the lights flick on. You're in bed, 75 years old. Your wife shakes you, insisting she heard a noise. it's 2:30am. You tell her its probably the kids. Your oldest daughter moved back in after her divorce. Its been nice to get to see the grand kids every day. You get up and then you hear it too. a nasty creak, followed by a small pop, coming from upstairs. You look outside and see it snowing hard again. You go to your grandsons room and wake him, asking if he shoveled the roof like he had been told. He mumbles that he forgot and so you drag him out of bed, telling him to get clothes on, and you run to get dressed yourself. You meet your grandson in the garage, and he's obviously very upset that he has to do it now. You both climb the stairs and get to work, you feel the roof groaning under the weight of the snow and you both set to work at a feverish pace. You're not young anymore and you cant keep up with the youngster, but a good portion of the roof is clear and the crisis is averted. Your grandson apologizes profusely and you never have to tell him twice to shovel the roof again. You inspect the attic and see that there was some damage to the house, and you brace the damaged boards and a few around them just for good measure. There are some new drafts in the house, but you just turn the heat up a bit and cant find where they could originate. Its nice, after the night on the roof, the boy seems to have a better grasp on responsibility. He'll turn out just fine.

..........

(shutter sounds) camera iris opens on you and your family. 82 years old, you're an old man. Your youngest grandson is graduating today. You're very proud. He's going to the south for school, and is excited because he hardly remembers a time with no snow. The whole family is together once for dinner, Its been a long time. Your oldest granddaughter has a beautiful toddler now, and you spoil him every chance you get. The cost of fuel has slowly climbed. Its expensive to heat your home, but you get by. You have maybe ten years left in you if you take care of yourself, but the cold is torture in your joints. You don't go upstairs if you don't have to. The weeks pass and your grandson departs and things settle down for a few weeks. Its been snowing lightly for the last few days, but you don't think much of it, you haven't had to mention that the roof needed attention in a long time, as its been taken care of by your grandson. your daughters are both visiting, all of their kids grown up now too. Its snowing hard now. you all drink and tell stories from the past, until late in the night, finally retiring to bed.

..........

A harsh touch of cold rouses you from sleep. Its 4am. Its cold. Very cold. Youre so tired. You start to get up but the cold quickly chases you back under the covers, joints on fire. You hear a door close, and know someone is up. your daughter will handle it, the heater must be off... Your wife is still there beside you. You snuggle up to your wife for warmth and go back to sleep. It will warm up soon. The weight of the snow has caused your house to shift, allowing the door to swing open and many windows to break in their frames. the cold penetrates the house as you sleep, silently, slowly, the cold dulls your senses.

you snap awake at a huge crash. The roof and one upstairs bedroom fall into the basement along with 2 tons of snow. Your elder daughter's sudden cry is cut short as she's buried by the downvotes. you hear your second daughter scream as well, continuing, echoing into the silent night. Your neighbor heard it but didn't investigate. Your body is slow, clumsy, your mind is foggy and you cant focus. You're tired, and warm. you throw the blanket off and take a few steps toward the door. Your house groans, you ache. The ceiling over your head collapses, knocking you to the hall floor, stunning you. You see that your bedroom is a hole to the basement. Your wife never cried out. You're naked. there's snow in your house. lots. snow. its cold. you cant think, your bed is in the basement. your daughters are in the basement. no, that isnt right, they're upstairs. You're confused. you climb down to the basement. You see your wife. you see blood. You cry out to her as you stumble thru the debris. she's underneath some wood and drywall, one hand and her head emerging from the pile, blood on her lips, eyes still closed. no pulse. so cold. You cant hear your daughters. You yell as loud as you can for help, for your daughters. its snowing into the basement. snowing on you. You yell again, beginning to sob. You cant seem to move. its all like a dream, so foggy. you look at your wife, confused, whats this mess on the bed? You shake her. Harder. You cant seem to reason this out. You sit down next to your wife, look at her. What a beautiful woman, you think. Shes dead. (sleeping) no. shes sleeping. yes. Its night. Bedtime. You're so tired. You climb into bed next to your wife and pull up the refuse like a blanket, blinking at yourself in confusion, unable to figure out whats wrong. Why is it snowing inside? you grab your wife's smashed hand under the blanket of debris. You frown, still unable to sort out the problem. You snuggle up to your loving wife, not understanding the resistance and weight on the bed. You've been so lucky to have her. You'll figure it out in the morning, you think. You never wake up, hypothermia claims you.

Your grandson blames himself for not shoveling the roof. It was always his job. He'll never be free of the guilt, he killed his mother, aunt, and grandparents. he goes on to be a supervillain, but that's a different tale.

the end.