I woke this morning to a hard rain turning harder–into graupel or soft hail. The splash of rain changed to the hard tap tap tap of the graupel. Visibility dropped to a block or less in the falling graupel.
Jumping in the shower before going to work, I stepped out to sunshine, Blue skies pushed the clouds off to the west and the day was changing for the better. Becoming more open. A day with promise.
Driving home for lunch, snow fell. A Fernie spring snow. Large flakes. Falling straight down without a breath of wind. No mountains, no features visible beyond the end of the street. A cocoon of snow. The highway hissed with the passing cars and trucks.
This is spring.
And tonight, at sunset, I fully expect to see broken clouds, the golds and pinks of a sunset reflected off the Lizard Range.
This is spring.
And tomorrow it will be 16c (above).
I need to drag my bike out of the basement and look for a pair of shorts. My touring skis lean in the corner by my front door, studiously ignored. I want to feel the derailleur moving up the rings as I head out on a sunny (or half) sunny afternoon.
This is spring.
By Keith Liggett
