pointless weather rant

It's a good thing we didn't move to Maryland solely for the weather. As we are now officially a week into fall and I have experienced all four seasons here, I have to say, they have all sucked! "This weather isn't normal," the natives keep telling us, and I can only hope it returns to normal tout de suite.

This winter we experienced the worst snow storm I have ever seen, and that's saying something since I came from Northeast Ohio. I have never seen wetter, heavier snow, and I honestly feared my heart would give out as I shovelled it. The spring came early, it's true, but it rained all the time, and, unfortunately, the hot summer days came early, too. Summer was unusually hot and very humid, but, at the same time, it didn't rain for weeks on end. Ben and I had to carry water every evening to our struggling plants all through July and into August.

At the end of August, hurricane season arrived, and it has pretty much been raining ever since. The plants that struggled through the dry early summer succumbed to the ceaseless rains of late summer and early fall. We can bring water to dry plants, but we can't dry out wet plants - as far as I know, anyway. Our beautiful cherry tree was the first to go, and it was incredibly depressing to see it standing there with all its leaves dead and brown in the pouring rain. The huge hole it left behind is pretty depressing, too.

I will admit, it is still early fall and I am holding out hope that somehow it will stop raining, the leaves on the trees will start to change color, and everything will be lovely. But I have to tell you, I am not optimistic.

signs of spring

The first flowers of spring are not like the showy displays of mid-summer. One has to know where to look to see them. In sunny corners, bunches of snowdrops spring up from under mats of last year's brown leaves, their snowy-white heads drooping shyly. Crocuses, those true harbingers of spring, appear suddenly in fallow beds or in the midst of slowly-greening lawns. Their bright yellow and purple and white flowers are the very colors of spring.

We have seen robins in the yard, and are delighted to hear their familiar song both mornings and evenings. The goldfinches on our feeder seem to have changed the color of their feathers overnight from dirty brown to a brilliant yellow. The male birds fight in ascending spirals with a great deal of flapping and chirping before flying off in opposite directions.

The Tribe won the home opener, and there wasn't even a hint of snow on the ground or in the forecast. This year for sure, eh? Spring has finally come to northeast Ohio, and it is more than welcome.

a winter walk

The sky is a brilliant and cloudless blue as Rufus and I set off on our morning walk. I don't feel any wind at all, but twice the trees above us drop a shower of snowflakes as we walk beneath them. They sparkle against the bright sky as they float to the ground.

It is very cold and the snow is freshly fallen, so it is still bright white and glittering on the yards and sidewalks. Each snowflake is a tiny prism, shooting off multi-colored sparks in the bright sunlight. The long shadows of trees lay across the sidewalk, tinted a deep blue. Their delicate shadow branches tangle in the snowy lawns and are lost.

As we walk up the driveway, I see the shadow of the redbud tree we planted in the front yard sharply etched on the garage door. I stop for a moment to look at it, but Rufus tugs on the leash, eager to be inside. He's right, of course. It's cold out here. But I have tarried long enough to remember the beauty of this winter morning.

the first snow

It was cold and blustery when Rufus and I went out for our morning walk today. Leaves of red and gold and burgundy and brown swirled down on us as we walked along. We had dressed for the weather, however; Rufus in his thick black fur coat, and I in layers, including a long-sleeved knit shirt, a hooded sweater, and a warm leather jacket. I also wore gloves and the beret I bought for Julie years ago.

I can't speak for Rufus, but I was enjoying the weather. Then I noticed - could it be? - a snowflake blew by. Hm-m-m... maybe just a fleck of something white that the wind had picked up. No, there was another one... and another. It was definitely snowing. I was utterly exhilarated to think that I was actually outside when the first snow of the season began to fall. Oh sure, it snowed for less than a minute, and I don't know that any of the flakes even made it to the ground, but I was right in it. It was wonderful. I wish it would have snowed longer and harder, but I am sure I will experience plenty of that before too long.

at summer's end

It looks like yesterday may have been our last day of temperatures in the upper 80s. Our protracted summer is finally drawing to a close in the second week of October. I generally don't care for late summer - too hot, too humid, too many bugs - but this year I have enjoyed it. It has been strange, though, out walking Rufus in shorts and a sleeveless top while brown leaves fall all around us.

I know in the past (before we lived in a house with central air) I would have absolutely hated this weather. I always felt that once October had arrived, I could expect to sleep comfortably at night. For me, that means sleeping temperatures in the 60s and no humidity. I now have that luxury year-round, so it just doesn't matter as much to me what it's like outside.

The dogs have been enjoying the weather, and I like the fact that it is easy to get them to go outside and stay there for more than a minute. I love it when Lucie finally lets down her defenses, and stretches out on her side in the sunlit grass. She lies there like rumpled laundry, and looks like she doesn't have a bone in her body. Rufus, being a black dog, wisely rests in the shade.

I think, for the most part, the reason I am enjoying the seasons so much this year is because I am actually experiencing them instead of sitting in a windowless cubicle all day, every day. I relish this unexpected opportunity to heal and to think and to observe.

September morn

Personally, I think Ben is a little biased, what with September being his birth month and all, but I do understand why this is his favorite month. There is a certain quality to the air, especially in the morning, that is simply lacking the rest of the year. It is a clarity, a freshness, even a smell, that is uniquely September's. Then there is the color of the sky on a clear September day. It is the very essence, the definition, of blue.

I might even join Ben in his preference for September were it not for one thing - yellow jackets. I know there are perfectly valid scientific reasons for why they act the way they do this time of year, but I just can't deal with it. Now that it is finally cool enough to eat outside comfortably, I can't, because I will be swarmed by yellow jackets trying to eat my food and land on my hands and in my hair. I try to keep my hands in my pockets whenever I am outside because it just freaks me out when they crawl on me. I can't sit outside and read (which I love to do) for the same reasons. As soon as it cools off, I am longing for the first frost to kill, kill them all.

Rufus and I have increased our twice-daily walks from two blocks to three, and it is an absolute joy to be out on mornings like this. Rufus is a good little walker, and generally trots right along, but he has started to develop the bad habit of stopping at each acorn he finds on the sidewalk and picking it up. He generally drops it after a few paces, but this time of year there are countless acorns on the ground in our neighborhood, and we just can't stop at all of them. So we are working on that.

It has been a long time since I have been able to experience the changing of the seasons as I am this year, and believe me, I am savoring it. I will continue to try to share it with you. Stay tuned.