Meteorological spring began in March, but we all know that we are in the middle of fake spring. This is the period of weather in which winter keeps popping back up from the dead like a horror movie serial killer. The cherry trees are blossoming, yet in a few days we will have a freeze warning posted for overnight temperatures in the 30s.
You can’t keep a good killer movie franchise icon down.
Or a good winter.
We had already served a heavy prison sentence handed down from the weather, with impossible amounts of snow and ice lingering for over two months. The coming of spring was like the arrival of the probation officer: we were sprung from the icy walls, but are still not totally free.
Prince famously sang that sometimes it snows in April, and I remember a few days in May which could have been mistaken for November. We aren’t out of the woods until Mother Nature says so.
I think she’s knitting a blanket and needs to complete “just one more row.” That’s what she said six rows ago. If you’re a crafter, you know what I mean.
I have been trying to put my winter clothes into storage, but I may not need short sleeves until July at the rate this fluctuation in temperatures is going.
A couple of weeks ago, the local news reported that a huge pile of snow at a local train station had officially been declared fully melted at last. The station parking lot had sacrificed several parking spaces for the pile of removed frozen precipitation, and a lighthearted contest was declared to see who could guess the target date at which the last of the blizzard’s evidence was gone. If we can do it in southern New Jersey, what must Minnesotans do all winter? Perhaps they still wear long sleeves in July.
My landscaper stopped by to check on the plants, and I know they were not handling the harsh winter well. She recommended waiting until May to work on them, allowing them to settle down into true spring weather conditions before trimming and mulching. I agreed, though my neighbors will probably think I am not keeping up with my home’s external appearance while I wait. My rhododendrons and azaleas are looking a bit like they took a hit this winter. My ferns took the abuse like champs, and new tendrils are appearing already. But I know the real spring weather is coming, fleeting though it may be, and my front yard will look spectacular while theirs, which they all scrambled to mulch earlier this month, will begin to need more maintenance sooner.
So the cardigans are still in use, I can’t put my jacket away, and I may switch from cooling the house to heating it again once or twice before it’s central air for the rest of the season.
And sometimes it’s hot in November.