What a week we’ve had. On Monday, the weather was ‘nicely spring,’ meaning that we had no roaring March-style winds, no flood-inducing downpours, and no tornadoes. The end of April was its normal self, almost-brisk at night and teasingly warm in the daytime sun with tickles of breezy coolness when the wind got up to its tricks.
In the middle of the past week, we had a preview of summer. The weather, plus humidity, rose enough so that we could comfortably test the air conditioner. Unfortunately for our pocketbook, all the test seemed to do was burn up about ten hours worth of electricity — the house’s cooling system is in need of a checkup. Still, thanks to the summery warmth, my husband managed to complete some chores that had been bugging him. He was also able to keep the neighbor’s pup company for part of the morning.
As is common at this time of the year, the temperatures go up and down. Thursday started out briskly chilly, but we’d been warned that our international neighbor to the north was evicting some of its cold air and that we (among others) would be the recipients of the Canadian weather largesse. Rain soon moved in and gave this early May Thursday the look of a month before — chilly, damp and rain slicked.
That evening we had to make a quick trip to a pet store for a new bed for our elderly Siamese family member and during the drive the view from inside the car was one that begged for snowplows. It was nasty enough that I needed my hooded winter coat.
I swear it looked like a blizzard outside.
(the plants are daffodils, in case you can’t recognize them)
As we drove, the wipers cleared a path leaving a border of snow-arches around the edges of the windshield. Oncoming headlights glowed above their illuminated paths on the wet pavement, while red and green traffic lights gave a Christmassy look to the roads. The incongruous part of the snowy Christmas scene was the underlying Easter landscape: tufts of not-yet-mowed grass beneath leafy oaks and maples interspersed with flowering redbuds and magnolias. It was as if the Imps of Spring from my childhood Rupert books had a miscreant in their midst again.
Of course, I’ve seen comments about how we could use some global warming right about now. Believe it or not, that’s what we’ve got. The wacky weather is a byproduct of climate change. You’ve seen the admonition to ‘be the change’? Well, that’s what this weather is. Climate systems are changing and wacky weather is a part of that shift. Unfortunately (for me), I haven’t a clue what to hope for.
Valerie Bonham 