We have a saying in Minnesota that goes something like this, “If you don’t like the weather, wait a minute and it will change.” After a brutal winter the weather changed at the end of March and the “people rejoiced”
Last fall’s leaves cover the faded grass. The deer come up from the gully and munch on whatever they find.
The first week of April we went for our daily walk and saw eagles in a tree in a suburban back yard.
Another walk took us along a path that crossed a creek. It was flowing strongly from all the melted snow. The trees were still leafless and we saw views hidden in the summer.
Discovered beautiful reflections in Lake Ann
When the thermometer hit sixty degree we set up the porch furniture and I sat and savored my chai latte while I read and breathed in the fresh air. Today the snow covered the screens and wet the floor.
The weather reports were not looking good. Warnings of snow, rain, sleet and the end of the world were been reported. Would it miss us? Would it go south, or north or any direction that was not where I lived?
This was the sunrise I awoke to on Wednesday morning.
Snow began at noon and by late afternoon everything was coated white.
Lilac bush through the screens.
We woke up on Thursday to a winter wonderland although it is spring! More black and white scenes of my garden.
The view from my writing loft
There are blessings that come with April snow. No really. There is the quietness. There is the strong contrast due to the lack of color, other than black and white. And the best one is that because it is April 11th, we know the snow will melt and the temperatures will rise.
If you scroll through my blog archives you will see a post called Oh! No! Snow! It starts with this sentence, “Today is May 1st and there is a winter storm warning. Really!” Towards the end of the post I write.
”On my way home I stop at the Co-Op and as I stand frowning at the bulk jars of beans, trying to figure out if chickpeas and garbanzo beans are the same thing, I hear someone ask how I am. I turn and see a small, elderly African-American woman. I gaze at how elegant she is and love the beautiful hat she is wearing.
“I’m mad” I say. Not batting an eyelid she says, “I thought you were. What is wrong?” I laughingly reply that I’m fine, but mad about the snow that is coming.
She asks if I have a garden and tells me to go and stand outside and listen to the garden sing, because it loves the rain. She smiles and leaves and I feel as if a garden elf has spoken to me.
And then there is the sheer beauty that surrounds us at every turn.