While waiting for the other shoe to drop

Winter in these Midwestern States can be rough.  It can last an eternity, or almost six months, with banks of snow and endless slush, grey skies and frigid temperatures, sleet, blizzards and whiteout conditions. Days upon days of negative temperatures and wind chills even lower with extra time needed each morning and night to warm up the car and defrost the windshield before driving anywhere.

In the event we have temperatures in late January of 60°, we are apt to walk around confused – and waiting for the other shoe to drop. Yesterday was one such event, ending the warmest January in these parts in eighty years.

After being cooped up with my dental dilemma last week and through the weekend and with temperatures in the fifties, I decided to take a bit of a walk through Wilder Park in Elmhurst Wednesday afternoon.

This was the only snow I could find.

 This bench was so inviting, I sat for a spell and simply enjoyed the sunshine.

It felt good. Sometimes we spend so much time worrying about what might be, we forget to enjoy what is.

I wasn’t surprised to see daffodils peeking through. I fretted that they are poking out at least a month too soon, but, I couldn’t help myself and borrowed my shadow to point them out to you.

It felt good to walk in the sunshine as I reflected upon last winter and the Blizzard of 2011, which dumped near record snowfalls and left drivers stranded for hours in their cars on Chicago’s famed Lake Shore Drive. I remembered the snow piled high against our back door and days upon days of wearing boots and scarves and mittens just to get the mail.

I remembered this scene of our arbor a year ago as I headed back to the car and wondered what the groundhog would be prognosticating this Ground Hog Day.

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Blizzard of 2011

The Blizzard of 2011.

While it didn’t best the Great Chicago Snowstorm of 1967, it came close, and will be a snowstorm to remember.

Tuesday afternoon, just as the snowflakes began to appear, the arbor and lawn looked like this.

Wednesday morning saw this, looking out our backdoor, which was held firmly closed by a snowdrift.

By mid-afternoon, our neighbor’s plowing and Tom’s hard work with the snow blower and shovels, there was this.

Shadows found time to dance with the sun and the snow rolled out a white, fluffy carpet to our door.

At day’s end, we were still safe and warm inside our house, the sun had come out, the winds had died down, and all was well on the Cutoff.

Here is hoping the weather is being kind to you, wherever you are this day.

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Thundersnow

I don’t recall ever hearing it, though the Great Chicago Snowstorm of 1967 was preceded by thunderstorms, and I remember that snowstorm quite well. Last night, as this 2011 blizzard took hold with its fierce winds and continuous snow fall, claps of thunder shook the rafters and claimed the news reports for a short while. I was amazed at the intensity of the thunder, officially referred to as “thundersnow” though snowthunder sounds like a better word to me.

Our bedroom is on the second floor, with a half-moon window at its highest peak. We get such a dramatic view of falling snow from this window. Last night’s performance was spectacular as the snow swirled round and round and the flakes bumped into each other and gathered, en masse, along the outside ledge.

Snow and mermaids and thundersnow, clapping with delight as the great Blizzard of 2011 began its first act.

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