Hi, my name is snow. Remember me? Snowmeggadon, in words and pictures

Hi, my name is snow.

Remember me?

I hang out in winter.                     

I am winter.

Oh, this isn’t winter? What, with the Ides of March and St. Patty and Spring Forward and all?

Coyote Wall Syncline of the Columbia Gorge. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

Surfboards and boat floats, Snowmeggadon March 2019. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

I was a Snow Angel

when you were a kiddo.

A snowman you patted together with soggy gloves,

beaning neighbor kids with snow ammo.

Snowboarding the front yard - super-G downhill Olympics! The THRILL OF VICTORY! The agony of defeat!

Sticking your tongue out,

gulping down snow flakes like frosted flakes.

Doxie Doodle’s snow day. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

I am a snow dog day.

Nose and paws

porpoising up from the depths in the yard -

skying up, up and away!

Surfing frozen waves -

paws and tail and tongue

in mid air!

Barking and biting at little white treats…

sprinkled from above.

Catatonic inside. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

I am a Snow Day.

And another

and another

and another...

AM commute. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

I threaten life if you’re not careful.

I am power outages and

long term sub-freezing temps.

I am no internet! (Like, O M G!)

I am no longer just a day, or

a week, or

a month….

I am Snowmeggadon.

Snowpocalypse.

Hear me roar.   

A force of nature. 

I AM nature.

Was there ever any doubt about

who was in charge?

And you…

far below,

shovel driveways and sidewalks

and plow and scrape the roads,

unearthing cars from

my smothery, mothery snow blanket.

Yellow vee-dub. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

Cars don’t work in this stuff, so we go old school. Snow boots. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

I am icy roads and

spin outs

and

I am the heart of the hearth -

the fireplace glow.

And I am

digging out with my neighbors,

taking care of the quail in the yard,

defrosting the hummingbird feeder. Daily.

Quail neighbors and friends. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

I am snow bus routes and

snow days,

delaying school,

cutting into summer.

But it wasn’t so long ago

that I was

Drought Emergency Declaration 2015.

And Eagle Creek Wildfire, #1 fire in the country, 2017…

Be careful what you wish for.

Garden party. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

Oh, that’s right, but this isn’t winter.    

We’re springing forward!

This isn’t Global Warming.  Or Climate Change.

This is just…. The New Norm.              

Snow day still life. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

Endless summers.

Never ending winters.

I once was

your Snow Angel.          

Don’t you be so

Snowmeggadon Curmudgeon

now.

Our Snow Man. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

The fall of Summer... in the Columbia River Gorge

It’s pitch black when the alarm goes off

it takes a little longer to rally these days…

But, if you wait long enough,

warm rays creep in,

slow and easy,

caressing the cliff

as the Syncline face wakes up.

Coyote Wall Syncline across the Columbia River in Washington, from Mosier. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

Low, grey fog over the Columbia,

rising with daybreak,

and your spirits rise.

Indian summers… coax you from bed.

Now, cue 3 dozen quail in the yard

who rummage around the bird feeder

as I rummage around the coffee maker and

blue jay has taken over the #1 spot

pushy guy

even though Robin, the early bird, got the first seed.

All those colors –  royal jay, rusty robin, copper quail

seem to work it out

with me, flesh-tone one,

in mellow Mosier.

The last squirrel stands his ground proudly.

He flaunts by, squirreling away seeds and walnuts and acorns.

He’s savvy, sneaky,

he has defied all attempts to send his species packing

as he defends his post

under my house

with his identical twin.

Our house. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

And the calico cat,

sleeping above the squirrels, one floor up,

is suddenly no longer content….

to simply flatten me against the mattress,     

like it’s summer.

Now she’s a cave dweller. A purr machine.

She’s a spooner now.

Undercover smother. 

Mosier fall on Old Columbia River Highway (30.) Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

 Morning sky has changed,

seemingly overnight. As if!

Comical clouds,      

ominous clouds,

get your butt to work clouds….

And the sounds outside are different

and the smell of rain

and a hundred million more        

rain drop friends                

are headed this way.

Smoke on the water for my commute. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

Fall is for Pendleton Round Up and

Hood River Harvest Fest and

Trick or Treat on Oak Street and

I heard Timberline got 11 inches of powder overnight – hint of things to come.

And I heard that “sticky flies” were here last week–

the Parkdale farmers’ almanac of what’s up with weather.

And my car’s still loaded for windsurfing,

even though wind came and wind went…

Mt bff windsurf bud, Doodle. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

Doodle Indian summer style, over the Hood River waterfront. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

cuz Indian summer is really SUP season –

Columbia River under the bow,

with my dog son - my dachshund

in a life vest… with two wetsuits now.

And that sliver of skin

between my ankles

and my sandals?

Now, a laser slice of ice…

and maybe that’s how bell-bottoms were invented?

I can’t wait for a whole new wardrobe…

… of leaves!

Now, a laser slice of ice…

and maybe that’s how bell-bottoms were invented?

I can’t wait for a whole new wardrobe…

… of leaves!

Karin’s kids in leaf attire - Minna and Motts. Photo: (c) Karin Erickson

Their happy go lucky rustle - rattle

always makes me smile.

And…

this is the time

we all come together,

all huddle inside,

to celebrate…

the fall of summer

and the spring of winter sports.

before Snow Man

comes to town.

My kids in leaf attire - Elvis n Dude (RIP) in Mosier. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

JUMP! It’s Leap Year - Leap Day. Bachelor Day. Women propose. Birthday today? Live longer.

Jump- jump! Go ahead and ju-ump.

Or not!

It’s Leaper Day. Feb 29, 2020.

It's a day that doesn't legally exist.

But here we are.

About every 4 years, we gain an extra day. LEAP DAY!

Julius Caesar introduced the first leap year around 46 B.C. –   2220 years ago.

Why leap once every 4 years?

It's all about the sun. The Earth takes a year to circle the sun - plus about 6 hours.

If we didn't add the day, we’d lose 6 hours a year.

After a century, our calendar would be off by 24 days.  Feb 29 would be March 24.

People born on leap day are often called "leaplings" or "leapers."

Once every four years, people born on Feb. 29 get to celebrate their birthday. 

I like those aging odds – 1 year in 4.

For reference, dogs age 7 to 1.

Romance & Leap Year

According to tradition, it's OK for a woman to propose to a man on Leap Day.

St. Patrick gave women one day to propose.

Watch out today, single guys…. 

But guys - if you don’t accept a leap year proposal, it will cost you.

In Denmark, a man refusing a woman's Leap Day proposal must give her a dozen pairs of gloves.

In Finland, a gentleman must give his spurned suitor enough fabric to make a skirt.

In some places, February 29 has been renamed Bachelors' Day because of the tradition.

Don’t get married on Leap Day. In Greece they think it’s bad luck.

In Italy, they warn against Leap Year weddings. Why?

"Anno bisesto tutte le donne senza sesto."                                                     

Which means "In a leap year, women are erratic."