What? Winter's Back!
That's what we get for crowing too soon about the fine, truly fine weather spring trailed along with it. Outgoing winter, grudgingly acceded to the new season, but winter is a tricky beast and likes to show off its truculence, just to let us know it doesn't depart with much in the way of good humour. Instead of accepting that its time has passed, it loves to remind us that its very particular season is far more at home here in the frozen north than more tolerable and tolerant seasons.
So what if we had 20 degrees celcius on Friday with full sun so we could shed all of our outer garments with comfort in full appreciation of the still-unseasonable warmth and glow of the sun? Nothing coy about winter, just a sly, humourless jab at our self-congratulatory good luck at the sudden departure of snow, ice storms, high winds and COLD! Winter said gotcha! and sent us a full day of wet snow, aided and abetted by penetrating winds and, what else? COLD!
But it is spring, truly it is. Winter will go, reluctant or no. I'm in the throes of spring cleaning, for heaven's sake. We made our annual appointment for dental cleaning of our pearly yellows, an unwelcome-but-necessary precaution against losing the damn things prematurely, after all. I've washed most of our winter jackets and hung them upstairs. We've put away all the winter shovels, the snow blower. Cleaned out the garage. Even placed a few garden loungers up on the deck, even sat on them on Sunday, soaking up a bit of sun in the warmth that was still available two days earlier.
We've taken all the snow cones off the roses. The winter wraps off the rhododendrons, holly, azaleas, Japanese maple, tree peonies, yews and Alberta spruces. So what gives? Well, in the rock garden bulbs are giving up winter slumber; they've poked their heads out of the still-damp, half-frozen soil, and I can see dwarf tulips, snake fritallerys, columbine coming up in the rock garden. The strawberry plants are already bright glowing green, the hummingbird vine has put out its tender buds.
In the garden beds lilies are pushing up out of the soil, and so are the irises. Some of the hardier roses look fresh and ready to go into tentative leaf. They've all been freshly liberated over the past week as the snowpack steadily receded under the persuasion of the unaccustomed warmth and heat of the spring sun. Tulips are raising their delightful heads everywhere in the gardens, and so are the hyacinths, daffodils and grape hyacinths. Icicle pansies are sporting nice green leaves, but this year no floral display yet. I guess they knew something we didn't.
Now everything, just everything out there is covered in a layer of fresh, new snow. Mind, when we went down into the ravine for our morning trek we didn't mind all that much. The wet snow adhered very nicely to what's left of the ice on the trails, securing our feet very nicely. And the trees, the bushes, branches, twigs, boughs, everything layered with fresh, lovely new snow. A veritable wonderland, a scene we felt certain we would not see again until next winter. Suddenly, all of the bleak, dank and dark look of the ravine forest in early spring mantled yet again in pure white.
We'd seen a few surprised robins, felt they looked slightly disconsolate, but truth to tell, they were fat, and sleek, and a few days of this seasonal set-back won't do too much damage to their hunting instincts. Nor did the crows seem to mind, flying high above and greeting we earthbound creatures with their raucous derision.
Winter, your time has come. Throw your silly little temper tantrums; patient spring awaits our pleasure.
posted by Pieface @ Tuesday, April 04, 2006
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