Last night the weatherperson was having the equivalent of a weather orgasm all over the place. We were setting records in the Ozarks, right and left. Let’s see, we had the lowest high temperature ever. I think we set a record for the lowest low temperature for that date. It snowed in Arkansas, an event that has not happened in May for 194 years. It snowed here too, something that last happened 106 years ago.
Last night as we were eating our dinner a little flurry set in. I felt compelled to try to capture it, and I’m telling you that snowfall is hard to get on a still picture. All those white streaks? Snow.
This is how it looked this morning.
The reason the perspective is so odd on the last one is I was standing on the step ladder. As you can see, pansies and the peas in the tubs below don’t give a rap that they were snowed on.
The cats know how to deal with snow.
This photo is remarkable for two reasons. First, there is a fire going in the stove. In May. Unheard of. Second, Impy is actually lying in front of it. The first time he witnessed fire being made in the stove his reaction was terrorized disbelief, never having seen a fire or heard it snapping and popping. He was sure there was some sort of cat-eating monster residing in the living room. As you can see, Mallory has managed to educate him about the subject.
So, lest you should believe that this spring snow is some sort of horrible environmental disaster, let me reassure you on that point. Sure, it is chilly, but the frozen precipitation that caused such ecstasy for the meteorologists came without a hard freeze. So the garden goes on, almost without acknowledging that anything odd or record breaking has occurred.
It’s a good thing I got out there and got those pictures when I did. In the time it took me to download them, edit them and get this far on my post, the snow on the wisteria has all melted.
I was concerned about the robins, whom I know for a fact have been very busy incubating eggs lately. Jim showed me one out in one of the cedars a few days ago who was guarding new hatchlings. So, the few days of cold and unseasonable snow made me worried for the little family.
I went out to see what I could see. She was sitting tight.
She did not like me or the camera, and left the nest to yell at me from a convenient locust tree. Her mate joined her in vociferous complaints. Since the nest was open, I thought I’d grab a quick look.
Not wanting those naked babies to get cold, I left immediately. I hadn’t gotten fifty feet away before Mama was back on the nest. So that was all right.
The robin who has chosen to nest on the dragon head driftwood is hyper-vigilant. You can’t walk into the back yard past the corner of that sauna without her jumping off the nest and flying over to the fig tree to tell you all about it. This morning was no exception.
I had my doubts about the viability of her eggs given that pattern of behavior. Apparently all that flying off didn’t keep the eggs from developing.
I guess that the cold weather this morning made it possible for her to ignore my presence over by the pond, because she got back on the nest while I was there, which is not her typical pattern.
She was able to stay on her babies while I walked back to the house. Of course, the fact that I walked WAY over by the fence behind where the clothesline is may have had something to do with it.
Well, I”m not so overjoyed by this weather pattern as the weatherman, but it certainly has been interesting.