Mother Nature... You're Drunk!

Today is March 12.  We're nearly halfway through the month where spring officially arrived.  We've "sprung ahead", daffodils are blooming around town, and yards are greening up.

Then there's this:

Yuck!  I am FINISHED with winter weather.  We had no measurable snow on the ground through January or February.  I thought perhaps we were out of the woods and I could consider changing out my closet and bringing out my warmer clothes. But NO!  Instead, I'm making sure my snow boots are out and ready for me to slip them on tomorrow morning.  I'm wondering what happened to my warm winter hat.  I dug out my scarf.  I guess I'll wait to take my winter coat to the cleaners.

I live in northern Illinois. I should not be surprised by anything when it comes to the weather, as it seems to change every five minutes.  I tell myself that I like living in a part of the world where we have four distinct seasons.  And I do!  I love spring with its flowers and green (though the hyacinths and other bulbs drive my allergies crazy).  I like the heat and humidity of summer in June and early July, and I tolerate it through August.  Fall is gorgeous, especially the forest preserves where the landscape is like an artists palette.  Even winter has its charms, with clear air and that first, magical snowfall of the winter.

But I don't like it when I get a tease of spring and then get pushed headlong back into winter's icy grip.  I've been spoiled by sunny days and warm-ish breezes.

Come on, Mother Nature.  Bring on spring for real!

Snow fair

Yesterday was March 1.
And it snowed.

Here in the Chicago area, we had no measurable snow cover in January or February.  In fact, within the past week, we had 70 degree temperatures and people were wearing shorts on the Lake Michigan beach.  We had a glorious sneak peek tease of spring and then...

WHAM!

Winter returned.  Not with a vengeance, not even angry.  I'd say winter was slightly miffed.  Annoyed enough to to drop the temps and make flakes swirl in the March air.

Honestly, I'm ready for winter to move on, to bother the fine folks in the southern hemisphere.  I'm ready for daffodils and hyacinths and kites flying in parks.  I'm ready for morning walks outside instead of on the treadmill and blossoms on the trees.

I know, though, that March is fickle.  That winter doesn't really have to evacuate the premises until later in the month, closer to spring break.

Until then, I'll wait, albeit impatiently.