When we think of winter in North America, we think cold—right? At least for most of us and even then, there’s the weird stuff like the blizzard a while back in Georgia. Usually, the days are cold here, the heater is on to warm my feet, a light wool sweater, long sleeves. When going outdoors, I add a coat layer, gloves, and a scarf.
This year has been so different. What I described above was the norm until we hit mid-Jan. But no snow or ice, just a scare. A big rain and little drizzle stuff. Since, we’ve been experiencing early Spring, despite the groundhog’s prediction. Leaves from the bulbs are pushing through the ground. The shrubs and fruit trees are budding. My early predictor is my flowering quince which has been blooming for three weeks now—with bees.
I still want some exciting stuff. A good snow. A few gray days for snuggling on the couch with a good book. Movies on the telly. Blankies on the lap. Kids out of school and playing.
I do have to remember what happened to me long ago. One Sunday morning, I drove my sister and friend to work. There was a drizzle and light ice, but nothing seemed significant. I took the loop on the turnpike and bam, rammed the center median. Seems on April 2 there was an ice storm.
And there’s not been one that late in the year since.
Mother Nature definitely has her own ideas.
In case there is cozy-on-the-couch weather, be enticed with the holiday anthology, Season of Promises, which features my romantic comedy short story, “The Littlest Angel.” Find the fun at: Amazon