Brr, baby, it’s cold outside! Low teens in October? Frozen pumpkins, water sources, fingers, and noses. My grand thinks now it should snow and there will be icicles and sledding. It’s definitely cold enough, but clear blue skies portend otherwise.
To a week complete with an earlier tiny window of snow flurries (we saw nary a speck), come on winter, we’re bundled up tight.
How’s your weather? What’s your favorite cold weather toasty drink?
Her highness was quite pleased with her hunting prowess. Full of herself too.
And just like that, click. The flip is switched and spring is here.
The snow is mostly gone, where last week we were path-bound to specific routes by mountains of snow and ice. Mud reigns supreme and small streams become floods. Smashed grass gasps in surprise to be free and under the sun. Spring came roaring in with the flip of the switch.
And we sit at night, bundled in our flannels, suddenly realizing we are sweating and why in the world is it so hot? Oh. It’s warm outside. The 40-50’s do not allow flannels and heaters and electric blankets. Those winter settings set our skin to blazing and must be forced down to a dull roar. Winter jammies are tossed aside for cooler, thinner fabrics. Spring thundered in, showering us with unexpected warmth. Our minds are too slow to acclimatize.
The winds blows. Wind? Why is it windy? It was just snowing last week, and gray skies permeated our days. OH. March is here. The true March, with roaring winds and warm days, leaping lambs and shamrocks. The blustery breeze helps clear the snow-winter fog from our bodies.
The cat. She was long confined to one narrow, winter ice-packed lane of travel. That went, well, nowhere except to other narrow, ice-packed lanes. It was better to sleep away the cold, day and night. When explosively, spring is here! The pasture appeared as if by magic. Birds called, frogs croaked, bugs hatched. The cat’s life is renewed. The hunter is re-energized with wide open spaces and plenty of sun-deprived prey.
Record setting opening day of feline hunting season set by one Monet. 2 voles, 1 field mouse, 2 birds. We sat, strolled, walked outside. Oh, there is another one. OH, watch your step, there’s something else. In the plant pot, hiding on the gravel, on the flat grass. Be careful where you step.
Getting ready to tackle another hunt.
RV windows need screens to let in fresh air, keep bugs out. Condensation woes drop to an irritation instead of mildew concern. Overnight heating sources are neglected, one by one.
In the blink of an eye, winter clothes must be swapped for spring, leggings, short sleeves, light jackets, sun-blocking hats. Sun block! Roadways are clear enough for walking, and though the body protests movement, efforts are made. And the realization comes that, well, spring is really here. Sweating, thirsty, hot. Add hat and water to next trip. Remove sweater and coat.
The sun! Seemingly overnight, with the gray clouds of winter gone, the sun seems to be coming up much earlier and going to bed later than our expectations. Let’s not even talk about daylight savings time and the big jump forward.
Change is hard. Even seasonal changes. Gentle is normal, but this year the leap from winter to spring happened overnight. This body reacts in slow motion. Oh, get out my spring/summer clothes, put away my snow/mud boots. Where are my slip-ons? The heavy coat remains hanging on the hook. Even socks change from thick warm to short athletic.
Each day, less snow, more spring-thinking. Spring exploded right in our laps, and I, for one, am racing to catch up.
How about you? Have you made the leap into spring?
For us, motorcycle adventures take place in two seasons: spring and fall.
Occasionally, like yesterday, the blue skies call us despite snow-laden hills and fields and cool temps. Technically, it is still winter. So we started early this year! Most years we can squeak in a ride in February as long as we are well covered with warm layers and roads are clear.
We are kind of like Baby Bear in The Three Bears. We need the weather to be not too hot, not too cold, but just right. The best time for us to ride is spring – not too cold, not too hot. And fall – not too cold, not too hot. Winter? Snow, ice, frigid temps. Summer? Sun and sweltering heat.
It could be perfectly fine outside for wearing shorts and tank tops. But we prefer to cover up when riding to protect our skin from bugs, sun burn, heat, road rash (if we crashed). Plus the helmet, oh the insulator of heat it is, keeps us nice and sweaty. Unless we are moving down the road and creating our own breeze, it is hot beneath the blazing sun. Stop lights are my least favorite!
In winter, it goes without saying. If four tires play slip and slide over mogul-like roads, imagine two tires. That’s a motorcycle recipe for disaster!
Yesterday we grabbed the perfect opportunity to take a short test run. Glorious blue skies, blinding white hills, brisk air. And quite a few others who succumbed to motorcycle fever! Just enough right to whet our motorcycle thirst for adventure.
Our trip was a short loop out Ahtanum Road, going right on Slavin, and then right on Cottonwood Canyon, which lead us back towards home. Lots of folk out cleaning up and enjoying sun and blue skies.
How do you welcome spring? What are your favorite things to do in spring?