Friday, March 26, 2010

MARCH TWO-STEP

Daffodils on the hillside this morning…
What a difference a day makes! Or in this case, a night—since the change occurred between about 10:30 p.m. when I went to bed, and 5:00 a.m. when I got up, and looked outside into an oddly glowing darkness.
"We have snow," I said to Myladylove, who remained asleep except for an unintelligible though not particularly friendly mutter. Moon the dog feigned interest, but was really more concerned about whether there was any chance I might dole out a treat before I began fumbling around in the kitchen making coffee. Deciding my caffeine jones would doubtless take precedence over providing a rubbery bit of fake bacon for the pooch, my faithful canine companion—decidedly underwhelmed by my weather report—readjusted herself on the sleeping pad and also went back to sleep.
…the same hillside daffodils Wednesday!
Well, I said to myself, I don't care what you guys think…I find the night's snowfall exciting.
Actually, just before turning in last night, as I let the dog out for her final peregrination, I could see in the porchlight's gleam a few big, wet flakes mixed in with the rain. Not unexpected. The National Weather Service's forecast had called for a bit of overnight snow. So I wasn't surprised to see white on the ground when I woke up…just not the 3-4 inches that now covers every blade of green grass, several hundred crocus, and about that many daffodils which are/were just starting to bloom.
Cardinal in the yard two days ago…
Still, anyone who lives in Ohio has to learn that March Madness meant something fundamental and important long before a bunch of tall, skinny men co-opted the phrase, donned silly-looking shorts and began jostling one another while chasing a ball around an indoor arena like of gaggle of gangly grade-schoolers.
The countryman of a century ago would have expected such weather shenanigans in March. "Spring can't be trusted to have settled in for good until you've seen snow on the forsythia blooms," my old pal Frank used to say. Frank grew up on farms in the muckland onion country of north-central Ohio—moist black earth so rich and friable that he avowed a man could kneel anywhere in a field and insert his arm up to the elbow with little effort. Frank would have been on the phone this morning at first light, booming with laughter at the overnight snow and anyone who thought such weather behavior uncharacteristic.
…Mr. Redbird in the yard this morning!
I thought you might like to see a couple of "before" and "after" shots taken day-before yesterday and this morning. For those of you to the north who've been just a tad jealous of our recent near-70s weather, you can chuckle now. And for anyone living far enough south that you've already been applying sun-block and sowing seeds, I must remind you it's unseemly to gloat.
The March Two-Step is in full swing here in Ohio; and sweet Miss Spring hasn't lost a single iota of her moves.
———————

20 comments:

Bonnie, Original Art Studio said...

chuckle, chuckle ... ;-)

Bernie said...

Okay I am going to take this personal and assume you posted this just for me......we have been having snow off and on all week but it is suppose to warm up this weekend as well. Love the before and after pictures and I am okay with the snow here as well as we really need the moisture.
Glad to see we are not the only ones without Spring right now.
Have a great weekend my friend...
.......:-) Hugs

The-Grizzled-But-Still-Incorrigible-Scribe-Himself! said...

Bonnie…

Yeah, yeah…I hear and duly note that jealous snicker. I didn't say you could smirk, though.

The-Grizzled-But-Still-Incorrigible-Scribe-Himself! said...

Bernie…

Hey, I wouldn't want to deprive you of a bit of guilty pleasure.

HOWEVER…this morning's snow is already about 75 percent melted, it is bright sunshine—though still 31˚F out—and birds are singing. I don't want to look at my poor daffodils just now, but I bet some of them in bud will be bloomed by tomorrow. So spring may be on the rebound here, at least partially.

We Buckeyes are rather fragile people…

Kelly said...

...it was a total surprise when we woke this morning! Matty wondered if a snow day was possible. I remember it snowing in April and on Easter several times growing up too. We shared in your excitement (and I loved your description of your dog...).

The-Grizzled-But-Still-Incorrigible-Scribe-Himself! said...

Kelly…

I remember one or two Easter eggs hunts in the snow during my daughter's childhood, and also as a kid myself, several after-church eggs hunts with snow…and others in the yard at the house where I grew up. Mom was always a great egg hider. You could spend an hour looking for a dozen dye-colored eggs—and she hid several dozen. But I also remember that in the early days, when it snowed, that old dye would "bleed" off and if Mom was really careful, she'd leave traces of pink and blue, green, purple, orange and yellow in the snow near where the egg was hidden. (You had to watch out with those yellow traces, though, as not all came from dyed eggs.)

Wanda said...

At least our daffodils aren't as fragile and did bounce back!

KGMom said...

Well, Frank's rule would not have held here. We had a week's run of 70s weather, and the forsythia burst forth.
Now today, freezing temps, though no snow.
Let's face it, the weather patterns of a century or so are shifting. We can't count on much anymore where weather is concerned.

The Weaver of Grass said...

The two-step in UK used to be danced to a tune called "Blaze Away" - very appropriate for this time of year I think. I expect that snow has all gone by the time you read this!
We have a rhyme, which I can't fully remember but it says we have February fill-dyke, March winds, April showers - and finally sweet May flowers. Hope it will be like that this year.
Thank you so much for all your messages of support and sympathy - I do appreciate it. It is lovely to be back, albeit fleetingly, into blogland. Thanks also for yet another picture of that cardinal.

The-Grizzled-But-Still-Incorrigible-Scribe-Himself! said...

Wanda…

I wasn't home long enough yesterday to make a real check, but I believe both my daffodils and crocus—most of 'em anyway—came through in pretty good shape. I hope so. And now, we await the next snowstorm…or will it be lasting spring?

The-Grizzled-But-Still-Incorrigible-Scribe-Himself! said...

KGMom…

It wouldn't have held true here, either, because most of the forsythia around this area is still waiting to bloom. Mine's about there, but maybe more like next week—which is, I believe rather late for local forsythia.

I don't know of a single weather proverb that holds true every year—nor do scientific predictions do any better.

Weather patterns are always—and have always—changed. Back in the late-1800s and early-1900s, winters hereabouts were long lasting and serious. Families, the postman, and anyone needing to get somewhere or make a delivery used horse-drawn sleds on snow-packed roads for several months. The old journals describe winters that sound more like upper-Michigan than Ohio.

That cycle was just tapering off when the Boomer generation came along in the late-40s, early-50s. Even as a kid I remember months of snowy roads and good sledding weather. Yet by the time my daughter was born, in 1980, snowy winters had all but disappeared; many came and went without more than a dusting. I used to go Christmas shopping with the top down on my various convertibles—pushing it, given the chill factor, but possible. And my daughter was like 9-10 years old before it snowed enough to take her sledding.

Now, thank God, we're having real winters again. Snow and cold, wind and sleet, icicles along the eaves…the whole picture-postcard package. Not one of those wussy "is it?" or "isn't it?" seasons.

The-Grizzled-But-Still-Incorrigible-Scribe-Himself! said...

Weaver…

Indeed, only a few whit patches remain here and there—and they will be gone by the time the day hits it mid-50s prediction. Most of my blooms seem to have managed fairly unscathed, despite being buried by several inches of snow, and 24 hours of below-freezing (or nearly so) temps.

You're welcome for the cardinal pixs, BTW. Just really, really glad you're feeling better.

Jayne said...

I shall not gloat, I shall not gloat...

For if I do, I will curse myself with a deep, late freeze like we had in 2007 which turned every leafed and blooming thing black.

No sir, I shall not gloat...

The-Grizzled-But-Still-Incorrigible-Scribe-Himself! said...

Jayne…

Indeed, I should hope not! One who lives so far south of the Mason-Dixon Line that you think a snow plow is something farmers in more northerly climes use before planting icicle seeds, had best not make fun of anyone's late snow.

We Ohioans expect and are not in the least by a few inches of white stuff in March—whereas you and your fellow Peach Staters consider it both crisis and catastrophe of possibly Satanic origins, best combated by huddling under your beds until you again feel sweat dripping from your nether regions.

No, mam…I definitely would restrain myself from gloating, least boreal spirits invade your neighborhood.

Gail said...

HEY GRIZ_
I am often as in almost always 'excited' by the weather - snow, rain, sun, wind, storms, calm., all of it effects me. :-)

And an unexpected snow? Nothing better!!! :-)

Great pictures of the 'March-two step"

Love you
Gail
peace......

Jenn Jilks said...

What a shock!!! Our snow has virtually gone. The lake ice went out this a.m. and rain is expected.
Your poor daffys!
Such is nature!
We've always had snow over Easter. I used to put small chocolate eggs in balloons and put them out in the yard. Now my eldest is 30 and youngest 25. The good old days.
Thank you for visiting My Muskoka !

The-Grizzled-But-Still-Incorrigible-Scribe-Himself! said...

Gail…

I've been out all day, hence the late reply.

Like you, I like "weather" and especially storms…or unexpected snows. That's part of the fun of waking up each new day. Sometimes it rains when I wish it were sunny—but hey, I like to know that no man gets to rule the weather, that there's something bigger out there than some politician or corporate head deciding if it's going to snow overnight.

Take care, be open to life…enjoy.

The-Grizzled-But-Still-Incorrigible-Scribe-Himself! said...

Jenn…

Your Muskoka is a lovely place to visit. And no snow here, either—though some mud.

Ahhhhh, spring!

Robin said...

Hope all is well....

The-Grizzled-But-Still-Incorrigible-Scribe-Himself! said...

Robin…

I'm still here, more or less. Thank you sincerely for asking…

(See next post.)