Yesterday,
for the third day in a row, we opened the curtains to find a light
coating of snow across our yard.
This
is not unusual. (And it’s not unusual for more reasons than the
three-day run.)
It’s
a funny thing around here. Snow falls all the time.
No.
Really.
All.
The.
Time.
Even
in April.
If
you set up a bullseye radius of sorts, you’d find places within
one or two hundred miles of our door in one direction that average
one hundred additional inches of snow per year than one or two
hundred miles in another direction. And that’s not north-south
directions. I’m saying go about 50 or 100 or 150 miles west from
my driveway, compare it to similar distances to the east-southeast,
and you’ll wind up with ten to twelve more FEET of snow
per year.
A
significant part of the annual experience is a near constant half-inch
to an inch of snow, blanketing the cars as it falls overnight,
most overnights. That’s only a slight exaggeration. But much like
the frost that begins appearing on September and October mornings,
these spring layers of the fluffy white bring along a very special
treat.
Sun
rises in the front yard at our home. Over a corn field.
We
have a few shadow casters in our back yard. A deck and a shed
and a fence and not a few shrubs and trees and bushes.
As
shadow turns to direct sunlight, the snow melts. Like a slightly
warped display of a sundial, not quite keeping time and yet still
showing the progress of the day, the snow retreats and disappears
as the shadows move. Cold enough outside to keep it around well
into the afternoon… light enough to quickly melt away in response
to the arrival of sunshine.
It’s
kind of magical, this October frost and April snow.
A
few nights ago, a party was held nearby. We stopped in. Special
business event with the theme of April in Paris. Nice enough.
Thinking about it a bit as the sun creeps along in the sky, adjusting
the way the shed or deck is reflected… shadow upon snow upon grass.
April
in Paris. I don’t believe they’re having snow there this morning.
They might have cherry blossoms though. Different places. Different
special moments.
People
sometimes notice things like snowcapped mountains in the not-too-distant
scenery on a warm summer day. But that’s not quite it. That’s
not an event limited to a few days. Not an event of a few moments.
In
May, only weeks away, we’ll begin planting a garden outside. Likely
to have a few squash and zucchini plants out there. And for those
that know, the excitement of that idea is squash blossoms. Delicious
stuffed and battered and fried squash blossoms.
You
have to pick those in the morning. The squash blossoms. You have
to catch them in the morning light, when the flowers are still
open. While different people have different approaches to such
a harvest, it truly can be a blink-and-miss-it event each day.
Snow
is just about gone now. Forecast has temperatures dipping into
the freezing regions for several more nights though, so today
may not have been the last measurable treat of the year. Still,
the calendar is moving along. Seems like we may be moving to higher
temperatures.
April
snow. Summer squash. (Pun intended.) The year moves along. And
before you truly realize it, the frost will be dancing with the
sunshine.