The season change seesaw

If there’s no change in the forecast, and the forecast is accurate, we’re going to get more than a foot of snow over four days next week. Once again our weather confirms that, at least in the North Country, Thomas Stearns Eliot was wrong. April is not the cruelest month, it’s February, or maybe March.

late February snow is far from rare

Photo by J. Harrington

Since our driveway is currently a figurative skating rink, I’m cogitating how I’ll get traction on slippery ice for either the snow blower or tractor. Stand by for some interesting, and potentially expletive-filled postings next week. Of course, if the forecast changes radically for the better (no snow, warmer temps), we’ll promptly speculate about how soon we can expect waterfowl migrating from southern climes. Until it’s over, we’ll settle for looking out the window to see what the weather is actually doing.

I’d be less troubled by the snow forecast if we were close to seasonal temperatures. Sunday, February 26, is the day our average daily high temperature reaches 33℉. That’s the same day we get back to 11 hours of daylight. Unlike the progressive lengthening of daylight, we’ve been experiencing a roller coaster of above and below average temperatures for days. Next week it’s back below after an above normal weekend. Once the snow blowing and scraping is done, more time for reading until it all melts.

Beyond the Snow Belt

by Mary Oliver

Over the local stations, one by one,
Announcers list disasters like dark poems
That always happen in the skull of winter.
But once again the storm has passed us by:
Lovely and moderate, the snow lies down
While shouting children hurry back to play,
And scarved and smiling citizens once more
Sweep down their easy paths of pride and welcome.

And what else might we do? Les us be truthful.
Two counties north the storm has taken lives.
Two counties north, to us, is far away, -
A land of trees, a wing upon a map,
A wild place never visited, - so we
Forget with ease each far mortality.

Peacefully from our frozen yards we watch
Our children running on the mild white hills.
This is the landscape that we understand, -
And till the principle of things takes root,
How shall examples move us from our calm?
I do not say that is not a fault.
I only say, except as we have loved,
All news arrives as from a distant land. 

********************************************
Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.