Posts Tagged ‘spring storm’
Random Crashing
It’s all about the weather. The conditions we awoke to yesterday morning were right up there with the most challenging we have faced, primarily due to the precipitation falling while temperatures were right around freezing. It wasn’t a harsh cold like a winter day, but a little bit worse in the way of bone-chilling, soaking wet cold.
The horses were shivering more than we liked to see, and Mia’s blanket was half off and dragging in the mud. Luckily, she stood still while we removed that and put on a fresh dry one. While the horses were occupied with their morning feed, Cyndie began cleaning out the inside of the barn so we could offer them a chance to come inside. We decided on a plan of leaving the stalls wide open and giving them the ability to come in or out as they wished without restrictions.
Since the last two times that we put them in stalls and closed the doors were disastrous, mostly due to Mix’s PTSD tantruming, we wanted to test whether they would choose to come in on their own to get a little extra shelter if we didn’t lock them in. There was fresh water, hay, and a small serving of feed in each stall.
They were all pretty skittish about coming in and showed no sign of being comfortable enough to relax and take advantage of the shelter. There were frequent moments of urgent exits and crashing into doors and each other, but then they would wander in tentatively again for another try. Swings was confident enough to spend extended time eating and drinking in the first open stall. She was comfortable enough to pause for a pee while in there.
Eventually, she made her way to the opposite corner stall and spent a little time checking it out. Mia barely made it inside the front door because Mix and Light were busy not making their minds up and nervously rushing out as quickly as they had tiptoed in.
After we grew weary of waiting for them to calm down, we kicked them out and closed the door so we could get back to the house to feed Asher and have some breakfast for ourselves.
When we came out around noon, the ice accumulation on tree branches was growing to between 1/4 and 1/2 inch thick. Whenever a gust of wind shook loose the ice, the crashing sound on the metal roofs of the shop-garage, and the barn made it sound like entire branches were coming down.
It was good the horses weren’t inside the barn because that would have freaked them out big time. The temperature was climbing a few degrees above freezing, and the horses appeared to have warmed up enough that they had stopped shivering.
We decided to keep the barn shut, but we swung the alleyway gates out so they could have access to the center space under the overhang that is normally reserved for us, leaving the door into the barn closed. Watching them on the surveillance camera, we saw Mix claim the center spot, which left Mia with an entire side of the overhang to herself.
They were done crashing around, so all that remained were large shards of ice raining down out of the trees at random when wind gusts shook them loose. It was no less unnerving for us.
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Not Obvious
It’s not obvious by this morning’s sunny conditions that we are in store for what threatens to be the largest snowfall of the previous winter season. All hail the impressive technology and communication from the world’s meteorological services.
We received a most genteel of precursor snowfalls overnight Thursday.
No plowing required. Even though some surfaces were warm enough to melt the snow almost as fast as it fell, the remaining flakes were light and fluffy.
The predictions for tomorrow’s snow claim the consistency will be more like wet cement. Oh, joy. Especially because they are also tossing out threats of snow amounts measured in feet, not inches.
If that plays out as described, our tree limbs are in great jeopardy. With luck, our location will receive a lesser amount of the predicted ranges.
There is a hitch in this long-duration storm we are being warned about in that it may change to rain for a while. That will diminish the accumulating snow totals, for sure. This is one of the rare times when I will be pleased if we get rain instead of snow.
The paddocks are a little too dry in general lately, which makes for pleasant footing today, but I need to make myself grateful for the mud this weather will likely bring. The moisture will be a blessing for growing things.
On my way back to the house on this brilliantly calm morning after feeding horses, I could hear a chorus of cracking and popping sounds coming from the trees.
I paused to observe one of my new fascinations since living here.
Pine cones were opening up in the warm rays of the sun. As I stood watching, I discovered I was hearing a combination of some residual snow and ice melting along with the popping pine cones.
For the first time since I became aware of the wonders of this amazing process, I was looking directly at one of the cones as a scale popped open.
I don’t imagine the trees have any awareness of the fate that will arrive tomorrow and last for a couple of days. I wouldn’t have a clue if it weren’t for the warnings of our weather services.
Today looks to be a beautiful sunny calm before the storm. It is not obvious that tomorrow will bring a big change.
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Spring Storm
Sometimes our spring storms involve rain, but it’s not strange when they come as all snow. Last night, we got the all snow variety.
Let’s review. Last weekend I was adding a bedding of manure around the base of some of our pine trees. It looked like this:
Just days later, a spectacularly defined winter snow storm spread out across the middle of our country and rode right over the top of us.
When I left work in the afternoon, there were hints of snowflake flurries, but nothing showing on the ground. Driving across the metro area, I arrived in the thick of falling flakes, but the roads remained snow-free. It was wet, and my windshield wipers struggled to smear aside the salty spray blowing up from the vehicles around me.
As I came up the driveway, I spotted Dezirea standing in the wet blowing snow, but the other three horses were wisely tucked under the overhang of the barn. Cyndie moved them all inside to their stalls when the snow began to accumulate.
We stoked the fireplace and dined on a gourmet spread of coconut chicken and rice with lentils, barley, and quoting Cyndie’s description, “a whole bunch of other stuff” that she whipped up with her typical professional flair. We watched a fascinating documentary film, “Finding Vivian Maier” that arrived in our mail from Netflix. We stayed cozy and warm while the definitive spring snow storm blustered its beautiful best outside.
This time of year, it is always a laugh to think back to whether a ground-hog saw its shadow, or how long winter would really last. Winter comes and goes in fits. It has been 70° (F) here already, and we’ve had days of greening grass and drying soil. We also have enough snow to look like it’s been here forever and the previous days were simply a dream.
I’ll venture out this morning in the darkness of the early hour, and traverse the miles that go from almost a foot of snow, across several counties to the day-job where it will still look like spring.
Thus is the nature of the narrow gradient of frozen precipitation on the north edge of a late winter/early spring storm in this part of the world.
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Relative Something 