We woke up to snow. It's not as if we did not expect it, but you can know something is about to be delivered and still not like the package when it arrives.
Snow. White, a cold white snow. Like the color of the bouquet on the butcher block, only not really.
Over breakfast, we consider it: snow in the second half of March does appear in Madison every now and then, but this snow, sticking snow, covering frozen earth is over and beyond the usual...
After work, when the light feels very tentative, almost not there anymore, we decide to load the donkey car with skis (I'd put them away for the season... how stupid was that!) and try to make our best loop by Lake Waubesa. A hare's breath from the farmette.
Ah. you notice Ed's shorter hair? I trimmed it this morning. Wild inventor no more.
At Lake Waubesa, where the creek comes in, there is a curious conglomeration of birds. Wild swan? So unusual to see them here!
A little less unusual is the call of the sandhill crane. In the summer, we see them often -- on the streams, the wetlands. Today, their warbling call keeps us company on the ski trails as well. How did they get here? Are they deeply disappointed with the snow cover?
The skiing is difficult. We're trailblazers once more and the snow is sticky, clinging to anything and everything. Slow going.
And I am somewhat in a hurry because my girl and her husband will be stopping by for dinner. They couldn't come yesterday and it seemed too long to wait until the Sunday when I'm back from my spring break.
Pasta with a tomato sauce and sea foods.
Tomorrow, the cold, really cold air will come down yet again and it will stay in place for the better part of this week. An unusual spring. A spring that isn't really a spring. Extended winter. For no good reason.
On the upside, 24 hours passed and we did not cancel our airfares for June. So we're set there. Can't back out now. And that's a good thing.