Last eve was balmy, creek flooding rain falling beating on our metal roof.  Calm enough to not stir the windchimes off the back deck.  It had rained all day, sometimes like gentle spring rain, at other times torrential downpours.  The region needs the rain, so I can’t grouse about it too much, though it reminds me of the winters past on the east coast, 40F, rainy and raw.  Not the spring showers that are pleasant to walk in.

This morning brought a new spectrum.  It was 20F when I arose, only expected to make it to the mid 20’s today.  As often happens in this mountain hollow, the wind is blowing like it wants to remove our house from its path, a steady 25 mph with gusts reaching 45 mph.  The other morning surprise is a dusting of snow and light snow trying to fall.  The air is a swirling mass of white, mostly looking like it is blowing horizontally to the next mountain. I’m hoping more will find its way to the ground.

Growing up in eastern Virginia, before moving westward to the mountains, I always heard the saying, “if you don’t like the weather today, stick around for 24 hours, it will change.”  That seems to be true of this winter in the mountains too.

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