|Just a few days ago, on Thursday, winter reasserted|
itself in Vermont. Pretty but dreaded at the same time.
Oh sure, we've managed to get a few springlike days during March and the first part of April, but mostly it was a continuation of chilly weather, occasional snows, and cold north winds.
Almost every year, you can pinpoint the moment, almost to the minute, when Vermont finally flips over to spring.
In my view, at least, this moment happened just before sunset on Friday.
The long anticipation of spring reached a crescendo Thursday when we woke up to encouraging forecasts for subsequent days. But we also woke up to two or three inches of fresh wet snow that fell overnight.
The snow, clinging to every branch on the trees was pretty, but come on! We've had enough snow.
The rest of Thursday was a continuation of bland late winter. It warmed up enough in the afternoon to melt most of the new snow, but the sky stayed dark, the wind kept blowing. It was damp, and underfoot mud season was in full swing.
Walking across the yard felt like an adventure into the deepest, darkest swamp.
Friday morning brought more disappointment for spring lovers. Forecasts had said it would warm up. Instead, it was raw, windy and cold. Sprinkles of rain filtered down, freezing in some areas and glistening like a sparkly, mean icy joke on the trees.
As the day wore on, the wind kept howling, and the temperature stubbornly stayed low into the early afternoon. But was that a rumble of thunder in that gusty noontime shower that passed by? Thunder is a sign of spring, isn't it?
Late in the afternoon, I finished work, and put on my jacket to leave and head home. I walked out the door and it was suddenly mild. The jacket was suddenly stuffy and uncomfortable. I got rid of it.
|Then on Friday, after winds stayed cold|
and raw most of the day, the air abrutly
warmed and theses sun rays over Lake Champlain
in Vermont seemed to finally herald spring's arrival.
I arrived home a little before sunset.
It was still kind of balmly out. The breeze, which had been stiff and cold all week, felt like a was a warm embrace from an old friend.
I noticed the first tentative heads of daffodil greens poking out of the mud next to the shed. Those daffodils were apparently just getting the memo, too.
The dark clouds seemed to be parting over still frozen Lake Champlain, west of my house.
Suddenly, the sun broke through over the lake, and these glorious warm rays spread out lovingly over the Champlain Valley. Sort of like a second coming.
On TV, the weather guys and gals were promising a week of mild temperatures. Those beautiful sun rays over Lake Champlain might have been happening at sunset, but this was clearly the long awaited dawn of one of the most welcome springs I can remember in Vermont.