Last week we were greeted with about an inch and a half from Old Man Winter. Granted, that's not enough to disrupt things (the schools didn't even do a late start, much less be closed for the day) but the accompanying Arctic temps prevented the stuff from disappearing quickly. The wind chill for either Wednesday or Thursday morning--it's all a blur to me--was about 14 below.
Speaking of blur, the snow falling on Thursday morning would have been nice for Christmas eve or day but when one has to work it just adds gloom. I looked out of the window all day, waiting in vain for sunbeams that never showed.
Friday? No more snow but still a heckuva lot of gray.
Finally yesterday we were rewarded with clear skies. I enjoyed seeing the sunrise as I spent my weekend morning driving Geoana to Stockton (she was catching a ride to a 4H leadership event, a harbinger of things to come). The truck's thermometer fluctuated between minus two and zero. Even after a gorgeous sunrise over the prairie.
Despite the chill there's no underestimating the therapeutic effect of bright sunlight.
I sure felt better come sundown yesterday. And with the promise of unseasonably warm temps forecast for the next three days maybe the white slop will turn into liquid and flow into the creek.
How many more weeks of winter?