Rain on the Plain

It must be very difficult for the weather folk to determine a forecast for this area. Way too often they send frantic alerts for storms that never show up. Other times, like yesterday, they say there is zero chance of rain. Even later in the afternoon, when a few clouds blew in, they still insisted we had only a minuscule chance of rain.

And then, suddenly, from one second to the next, it seemed, the mostly clear skies gave way to gray clouds, and rain poured down.

Although the people I work for often offer me a ride back to my house, until yesterday, I have always refused. I live a mere two blocks away, and neither rain nor snow, nor heat, nor gloom of night ever kept me from walking home. I know they worry about me, but I don’t. As I always said, when they offered a ride, was, “It’s only two blocks.”

Last evening, for the first time, I was grateful for the offer of a ride. Even though I’d only be outside for the few minutes it would take to walk home, it seemed an almost insurmountable task. I mean, it was RAINING! I’ve often heard a cliché about rain and turning on a faucet, and it truly did seem as if someone up above opened a faucet a mile wide and was dumping water on us. (That’s how clichés become clichés — because they are true often enough that they become overused.) Yikes.

Poor visibility, flooded streets, chilly temperatures are the very reasons I I hesitate to accept rides. I figure if it’s hard walking, then it’s also hard driving. But yesterday, with a ride, at least I didn’t get quite as drenched as I would have otherwise.

Of course, if I had known about the rain, I would have come prepared with a waterproof hat, an umbrella, and appropriate clothes. I must admit, I was more concerned about my hat — a gift from a friend — than I was about me. I was afraid the rain would ruin the hat. As it turns out, the hat still got damp enough to be bent out of shape.

But I got home safely and not too wet.

And I have a better respect for the volatility of the weather out here on the plains.

***

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Snow of a Different Sort

The most recent snow finally melted under the oh, so welcome sun. Unusual for Colorado, the skies glowered at us for several days, maybe even a couple of weeks, without even a hint of sunshine, but the weather is back to more normal temperatures and bright sunshine. Tonight, another storm is expected, but it shouldn’t be long lasting because the temperature for the next days (as in the previous couple) will be well above freezing.

Meantime, I found snow of a different sort:

Yes! A snowdrop!

This must have been one of the bulbs that survived the drought of last winter and the searing heat of the summer, because I didn’t plant any snowdrops last fall. I’ll be curious to see if any other of the previous year’s bulbs will make an appearance, but I am just as thrilled with a single blossom as I would be with a whole slew of them. Well, almost as thrilled. Someday I hope to have a yard full of flowers and flowering bushes, but until I learn enough, and until I plant enough, I’ll be grateful for every flower that decides to bloom.

By next week this time, the weather is expected to be spring like. I’ve been hunkering down because of the cold, I wonder what it will be like to un-hunker. Probably not much different, actually. The last couple of weeks I’ve been back doing errands on foot, and that will continue, as will all the hours spent reading and blogging and playing games on the computer.

There won’t even be any gardening to speak of — around here, the last frost isn’t until the first week in May, so there’s no point in planting anything until then.

But I can dream of flowers to come.

And I can enjoy the flower that came.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator