Spring?
Yes, it is supposed to be spring. We're more than halfway through the month of April, after all. So why is it that it seems logical about now to issue an SOS - Save our Sanity plea to nature? Will nothing save us from this wretchedly reluctant season? Triumphant winter has gifted us this day with 17 cm-worth of wet snow. This is our version of the powerful northeaster that has pounded the U.S. East with wind and pouring rain, occasioning worries of impending coastal flooding.
Heavy rain and thunderstorms made their presence known from Florida to New England with wind gusting to 114 kilometres an hour in some places. Storm warnings and watches were posted all along the East Coast with flood warnings from North Carolina to New York. Winter storm warnings were in effect for parts of New England and eastern New York state. Sustained wind of 64 kilometres and a storm surge of up to 1.5 metres have been issued by meteorologists.
So, after yesterday's all-day heavy rain, we weren't entirely surprised to find a deep winter landscape greeting us as we looked out first thing this morning. Disappointed, but not surprised. It's April 16, after all. Another indoor day, we thought, but all right, we both had plenty to do. Each time I shook out the dustmop or furniture dusters wind blew a sheet of rain over me. When the municipal snow plow came charging up and down our street, depositing knee-deep piles of snow at the end of the driveway it was time to haul out the snow thrower.
Good thing it hadn't been drained of gasoline and cleaned up to be put away for summer to await next winter's arrival. Out it charged onto the driveway, chugging away, under my husband's capable hands, throwing that heavy wet snow wherever directed. And then the rain stopped. Briefly? We couldn't guess, but did prepare ourselves for a jaunt in the ravine. We rescued our winter boots, dressed our little dogs in their winter coats, and set out under the dark overcast sky, wind rattling above.
Didn't quite know what to expect, other than a lot of wet snow which we all began slogging through. The landscape looked definitely winterish, no longer black and grey. Huge dollops of wet snow fell constantly from overburdened trees. That same heavy burden of wet snow that had taken down power lines just east and south of us cutting off power to tens of thousands of households - and over a hundred thousand near Montreal.
We scrunched through the top layer of dumpy snow to expose the muck beneath and slid down the hill into the ravine. No sounds of birdsong this day, but plenty of sound from the muddy, wide and deep rushing waters of the creek, hauling in its wake debris picked up from the winds rattling the branches of overhanging trees. To clamber uphill again became a struggle through the clamping snow, and the water-logged soil underneath expressed a new life transformed into rivulets washing into the creek.
Before too long I became aware that my left socked foot felt most definitely wet, and soon soaking wet as we trod through ankle-deep water under the covering of mushed snow. Still, we were outside, in the ravine, and making our way through the trails, sodden or not. It's always good to be out there, despite these peculiarly remarkable circumstances. It was cold, the wind was howling, the masts of the trees were dancing wildly and our two little dogs became enlivened by their soaking, their boredom alleviated.
Even squirrels were scarce this day, not venturing too far from their sloppy nests. Button and Riley skipped and postured, and watched and listened and ran about happily in the mess that soaked them thoroughly, just because it's good to be alive.
Heavy rain and thunderstorms made their presence known from Florida to New England with wind gusting to 114 kilometres an hour in some places. Storm warnings and watches were posted all along the East Coast with flood warnings from North Carolina to New York. Winter storm warnings were in effect for parts of New England and eastern New York state. Sustained wind of 64 kilometres and a storm surge of up to 1.5 metres have been issued by meteorologists.
So, after yesterday's all-day heavy rain, we weren't entirely surprised to find a deep winter landscape greeting us as we looked out first thing this morning. Disappointed, but not surprised. It's April 16, after all. Another indoor day, we thought, but all right, we both had plenty to do. Each time I shook out the dustmop or furniture dusters wind blew a sheet of rain over me. When the municipal snow plow came charging up and down our street, depositing knee-deep piles of snow at the end of the driveway it was time to haul out the snow thrower.
Good thing it hadn't been drained of gasoline and cleaned up to be put away for summer to await next winter's arrival. Out it charged onto the driveway, chugging away, under my husband's capable hands, throwing that heavy wet snow wherever directed. And then the rain stopped. Briefly? We couldn't guess, but did prepare ourselves for a jaunt in the ravine. We rescued our winter boots, dressed our little dogs in their winter coats, and set out under the dark overcast sky, wind rattling above.
Didn't quite know what to expect, other than a lot of wet snow which we all began slogging through. The landscape looked definitely winterish, no longer black and grey. Huge dollops of wet snow fell constantly from overburdened trees. That same heavy burden of wet snow that had taken down power lines just east and south of us cutting off power to tens of thousands of households - and over a hundred thousand near Montreal.
We scrunched through the top layer of dumpy snow to expose the muck beneath and slid down the hill into the ravine. No sounds of birdsong this day, but plenty of sound from the muddy, wide and deep rushing waters of the creek, hauling in its wake debris picked up from the winds rattling the branches of overhanging trees. To clamber uphill again became a struggle through the clamping snow, and the water-logged soil underneath expressed a new life transformed into rivulets washing into the creek.
Before too long I became aware that my left socked foot felt most definitely wet, and soon soaking wet as we trod through ankle-deep water under the covering of mushed snow. Still, we were outside, in the ravine, and making our way through the trails, sodden or not. It's always good to be out there, despite these peculiarly remarkable circumstances. It was cold, the wind was howling, the masts of the trees were dancing wildly and our two little dogs became enlivened by their soaking, their boredom alleviated.
Even squirrels were scarce this day, not venturing too far from their sloppy nests. Button and Riley skipped and postured, and watched and listened and ran about happily in the mess that soaked them thoroughly, just because it's good to be alive.
Labels: Whoops
posted by Pieface @ 6:03 PM
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