I just had a weird flash of possible memory.
My fiance, who follows football more as a weird obsession than as a fan, was rambling about his Super Bowl picks and mentioned that the Super Bowl will be played in New Jersey in the middle of a snow storm.
That actually immediately made me think of having been there in New Jersey, in the winter of 1776. The memory I had was of being separated from someone, unsure of whether to take quarter in a nearby town or to push on and try to catch up with whoever we were with. It seems I may have been with the Continental Army which actually surprised me (I always figured I had been a romantic poet living in England at the time).
The place- which looked to be a meadow outside a town ringed with large forests of bare hardwoods- was very beautiful but, as I remember, so bitterly cold that it hurt to move. In all, it was a very desolate and desperate scene and not a pleasant memory.
Unfortunately, there’s not enough information on this one to tell if it’s genuine or not. I’d need to confirm something I couldn’t have known unconsciously from documentaries and so far, I’m not there yet. This could be nothing. I’ll post more if I learn more.