“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, ‘Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.'”
There’s a full moon tonight, and a weather advisory for the Northeast and Midatlantic.
Snow will start falling tomorrow, and keep falling through early this week until it lays a thick quilt across our land – up to 12 inches thick – so say the weather soothsayers.
It’s been an unusual winter for the eastern panhandle of West Virginia.
February is usually our coldest month and sports the heaviest of our snowfall. But this year? We saw nary but a few spartan flakes. Temperatures rose to 70 degrees, warming the land and softening the earth, then cooled again, on and off, just like we would expect it to, had it actually been Spring.
But the Spring Equinox doesn’t occur until next week, March 20th to be precise.
Yet the wild Cherry trees and Bradford Pears are in full bloom. Blue-violet crocus’ and buttered daffodils cheerfully raised their showy heads, while the forsythias donned golden yellow dresses enticing trees, everywhere, to cast forth buds. Robins once again dot the lawns and song birds are caroling with glee.
So I guess it’s not just me. Nature must have been fooled too.
Silly us — thinking that Persephone had returned early from the dark underworld. For how else does the earth awaken into leaf and bloom, but from Persephone’s joyous reunion with Demeter, goddess of the harvest.
But Mother Nature roared, as she is sometimes wont to do. “Not so quick, my darlings.”
And thus, nearly one week prior to the Vernal Equinox, we will have the first snows of winter arriving enforce, to herald in our Spring.
So as is custom – stores are packed to capacity with last minute shoppers buying milk and bread. Snow shovels and rock salt are being brought back out from early storage. And seed catalogs perch next to armchairs as firewood gets stacked next to the hearth.
It was hard to shake off the lethargy of winter. I felt like a hothouse bulb forced into bloom, out of sequence of natural time. But I had rallied and began spring-time activities, awakening in due course. And BAM!
Now I must put all the frenetic energy I spooled into being, back on hold.
The hearth has been laid. The house is prepared. Hatches have been battened down. Let it snow, let it snow, let snow.