Springtime in the Rockies

Spring struggles at times to get going on the prairie.  Winter keeps rearing up and sending more white stuff to remind of what spring is all about.

Get up this morning, the ground is damp and there are sleet pellets sprinkled about.  The clouds are low and scudding overhead.  It is a cool morning, below freezing but not much breeze, a mystical look to the sir.  The dogs trot outside and pause on the steps, noses working overtime, eyes darting, questioning what is in the air.  Another day is underway.

I fix the morning coffee, pour a cup, find the easy chair, sit down and watch the morning unfold.  Out the morning window the mist tumbles along, the grey becomes a silver overcast.  Soon the clouds are going splat, splat.  Snowflakes the size of quarters are splashing on the window sill, the grey has become a floating white picture.  It becomes thicker, sight is limited, the birds a scampering about scratching the snow to get at the seeds that have fallen out of the feeder.  Morning has gone from an overcast to a white wonderland.  There is a light wind and the snow angle shifts to a side draft.  The ground disappears under a white mantle.  The birds sit on the fence looking at the covered ground, soon they fly off.

Shortly the flakes stop and the a quiet settles over the land.  A muffler has been placed on nature.  Mist lifts off the trees, some light penetrates and the land is white to the eyes end. Drops splash off the ground, no longer is it snow.  Before it gets out of the clouds the snow has melted to a drizzle.  The white mantle becomes a patch work.  brown ground peeks back out of the blanket.  Melted drops turn to white splatters, a fickle cloud hangs overhead, not making up its mind what it shall deliver.

Robin hops around looking for breakfast, a killdeer hops along the roads edge, stopping and searching out the shoulder looking for a meal.  Grackles huddle on power lines staring down at the covered earth.  Finches and sparrows perch in the shrubs.  All looking for a place to wait out the weather, to find a dry spot, looking for a meal.  cottontail goes hopping across the snow, pausing to nibble at sprigs of grass, scrambling through the white wet stuff, crawling into the nest.

Yeppers, winter just does not want to let go but spring battles on.  The moisture is greatly needed, even in the form of snow.  April showers whether they are white or silver drops, all are welcomed.

 

From the mixed up hi-plains

Have a Great Weekend when it gets here.