Well, you said you wanted an adventure he said faint hint of a smile around his mouth.
Not like this, I muttered as I slipped into the stream of shoppers headed with undue haste towards the door, large white flakes contrasting against my dark hoody. It was cold and we were acting like a herd of lemmings headed towards the cliffs edge…in this case the cliff was a big box store with a heated doorway.
Heat. Total bliss.
Sunny and seventy-five it was not.
I can’t believe this weather, yesterday was so warm….and sunny.
I’ve directed my zinger of a statement towards his retreating back as he sets off to wrangle an extra-large cart to begin our expedition between the jostling elbows, and hands grasping glittery gifts in the land of big box shopping.
We’ve had an easy winter around here despite snow levels and cold temps it had looked as if the balance between the seasons was shifting into spring. The green sprouts popping up in the garden seemed to herald the beginning of a new season.
That was yesterday.
As the family weatherman, he may have misread the forecast for the day but it was hardly his fault. The large ball of glowing yellow showing up on the screen of his phone had predicted yet another beautiful pre-spring day.
But the first day of March had a bait and switch ploy in mind that involved sleet, snow, and ice covered lakes instead of sun and sprouts.
It presented an adventure for those daring to travel the slick winding back roads to the “next big city” a long hour plus drive away with road conditions worsening the further north we went.
“Let’s go to” he’d cheerfully exclaimed waving his cell phone towards me that morning, the false forecast brilliantly shining on the screen, it’s supposed to be sunny…. and warm he added for effect not that it was needed to convince me to go.
Alright, I’m up, it’ll be fun we’ll just drop everything and just….go, we should do this more often we say to each other, practically high fiving our brilliant plan.
This is what we middle-aged homebodies can call an adventure now, a day trip through beautiful winding back roads past glistening lakes and rolling farmland dotted with cows and wildlife until you pop out on a highway that follows the mighty Thompson river for ages finally coming upon a city nestled in an arid desert of sagebrush.
The party’s over
Below us the city usually spread out like a banquet with delectable stores and opportunities to thrill the senses was blanketed in white, slippery wet with melting slush.
Hardly the fun “why don’t we come here more often” quest we had hoped for.
Slick roads dared me the nervous passenger to take my eyes from the road, the by now unfamiliar white stuff making visibility difficult while yet another semi blasted us with a dirty spray of water, and melting snow, leaving me feeling as if it was careening carelessly down the highway.
His driving skills impeccable, hands steady on the wheel, unconcerned, and capable business as usual calming me down and let me gaze out of the windows.
Later while ice dancing in the big box parking lot with the jumbo sized cart as a partner, we hustled our groceries to the truck, the lack of a winter coat a regret. I realized that if the road home was temporarily closed due to an accident which happens more often than you think I would be woefully unequipped to handle it.
The wrong way down a one way street
I knew better, we never leave without winter preparations and proper attire but the recent spring like weather had made me abandon my winter jackets in a fit of rebellion.
Now I knew that spring’s delicate balance had tipped.
The weather was having a moment, allowing Winter to stamp its feet in a fit of pique, throwing one more tantrum before shuffling off to nap out the rest of the season.
But our breathtaking glimpses of ice covered lakes, cotton fluff covered mountains dripping with low clouds obscuring the horizon dramatically punctuated with silhouettes of giant evergreens that lined the road.
Meandering between barren sage brush fields and pine scented meadows the view changed as the elevations did, my camera clicking furiously as the snow and slush made gorgeous shots. When we reached the outskirts of our part of the Okanagan snow turned to light rain, and it was as if we had left another world behind.
The shifting of the seasons to spring rebalanced.
Jen @ The Light Laughed
Seasons change and so do we
Just as the seasons start to dance their delicate balance it seems as if the time available for blogging does the same. I’ve been immersed in helping to create the next issue of RURAL magazine with the early April deadline looming scarily closer each day, there’s a lot of behind the scenes work to putting together a issue, you can see some of it on RURAL’S new facebook page here, or follow RURAL magazine on Instagram.
Our cat Boo has spring fever, waking us up earlier each morning. While somehow the allure of stumbling out of a warm bed into a cold house at 4:00 am just isn’t there for me I can only go back to bed. The birds have started to sing their wakeup call and the Bootsie must be excused…although a sad lack of sleep on my part isn’t helping me get through the day any easier. With a garden that seems to be preparing to burst out of the soil between snowstorms, and a high maintenance cat the idea of getting away from it all for the day of adventure was rather appealing.
No regrets…and I loved the opportunity to get more atmospheric shots. I hope that you too get a moment away from it all, and have the photos to prove it.
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Until next week…Jen