A photo from last winter which I'm sure will recreate itself in the next not-very-many weeks. We had light snow and intense cold for about ten days. An unusual start to our winter but in this age of climate change the unusual is expected. Then we had five or so days of suddenly spring-like temperatures and mild winds -- a delight! Now it's very cold again, but seasonably so this time. So far the snow has simply been occasional errant flakes. I'm sure we all expect much more soon.
Our seasons, especially spring, are always very changeable from day to day, week to week. I have learned to try to take notice of what each day is. I don't like the face-freezing winds, I don't like the black ice that surrounds my car in the parking lot. I walk with great caution, this is a time of broken wrists and sprained ankles and more serious injuries and I want none of them. I've written a small poem about our brief respite of thaw.
Unseen crows in full cry warm, wet fog wraps its wisps among bare tree tops a gossamer veil blending into a skimmed milk sky ice melts into puddles hopeful hints of far off spring. In this temperate latitude adjustment to fickle weather is an unchanging fact of life.
The mid-70s are a surprise! Part of me remains in the 50s -- age, I mean, not decade of 20th century. It's a joy ride, new experiences land in my lap and I've become a better quilter, poet, writer than I expected. It's a rich life for a person never rich financially. Hey, this is what the mid-70s are like!