I have to check the calender. It IS April, right? Like, partway through and almost the end of April? And I haven’t moved somewhere north of the arctic circle, right? You see, the backyard is covered in white stuff – no, I don’t mean cherry, plum, pear, and apple blossoms as will happen fairly soon.
It started on the trip home. I could see dark clouds looming to the west. I watched as ‘something’ seemed to be pulled down, a thick almost black mist, over the West Side and Downtown. “That’s not rain,” I commented to someone waiting next to us for the bus. “Noooo,” she said. “Has to be rain. It’s April.” Nevermind the icy cold wind that’s whipping about us. Ten minutes later, walking from the bus stop home, we get pelted with hail. Amid the hail drifted snowflakes. And the sky lit up with lightning a few times. This is the kind of weather I expect in the ‘traditional’ circa-Valentines day storm! What the eff is going on here?
This is the time of year I usually gloat to family back home, still dealing with the winter melt. I usually casually remark about the plum blossoms in the back yard, promising signs on the rose bush, and oh-did-I-mention the tulips are almost done? “It was 26 degrees here,” Mom remarked, using the Centigrade scale for all you Americans by the way, when I told her what was falling from the sky. “We had to have the car’s air conditioner running the whole drive down.” They drove from the cottage to Southern Ontario to visit family. There was no disguising the glee in her voice.
I’ll have to dig up Cameron’s mittens again. Yeesh. So my son can play with snowballs tomorrow, since it’s supposed to dump more of the stuff on us. In APRIL. Did I mention it’s APRIL?
(The picture is not from today. It’s Cameron around New Years in snow at the cottage. But gives you an idea of what’s going on here)
Edit at 11pm. Huge fluffy snowflakes literally POURING out of the sky. It’s a bilizzard. The trees, cars, roads, yards are covered. It’s insane. And bloody cold.