Comments

  1. Ice Swimmer says

    Grass is starting to green. Check.
    Snow on the ground. Check.

    Looks like April. Here, it’s been deceptively warm, >10 Celcius, but something will come up by May Day, even though the weather forecast looks just a bit rainy.

  2. says

    Ice Swimmer:

    Here, it’s been deceptively warm, >10 Celcius, but something will come up by May Day, even though the weather forecast looks just a bit rainy.

    Oh yes, there’s always a late storm waiting to drop. It’s been fairly warm this last week, so I was waiting for snow, and here it is.

  3. rq says

    Yay!
    April means brown-turning-green yard with frost in the mornings, and a lovely sunny day to follow (“But rq,” you might say,
    “dark dreary rainy weather is far more common to April” to which I would say “DON’T RUIN MY HAPPINESS!!”). I cut my roses in March, but today I made an inspection, and it seems they’re mostly alive and pushing out leaf-buds like crazy, never mind the frosts. And the birch tree on the little roof above the entrance to the archive at work is about to burst into full spring green colour. I love that point in spring, it always feels like there’s that one day where all the green just EXPLODES. Should be sometime soon! Anyway, sorry for the ramble.

  4. blf says

    The Mistral is still puffing now-and-then, but here it’s sunny enough there were people on the beach. In bikinis. And probably other minimal clothing, but I, err, wasn’t actually looking… I was just at this restaurant next to the beach, see, and, will you couldn’t help watchingseeing…

    No Kraken were spotted. Nor surprising, it’s early in the season and I wasn’t looking. Really!

    (Pedantically, at least according to the linked-to Pffft! of All Knowledge article, the Mistral blows from the North-ish into the Mediterranean Sea. The current wind is in the other direction — and, at least today, not particularly strong — but I’ve never heard it called anything else.)

  5. says

    rq:

    I cut my roses in March, but today I made an inspection, and it seems they’re mostly alive and pushing out leaf-buds like crazy, never mind the frosts. And the birch tree on the little roof above the entrance to the archive at work is about to burst into full spring green colour. I love that point in spring, it always feels like there’s that one day where all the green just EXPLODES. Should be sometime soon! Anyway, sorry for the ramble.

    No need for sorry, if anything, Affinity is a place for people to talk. (so to speak.) As I was watching the ice, snow, rain, and snow coming down out my studio window, I noticed the lilac tree is all budded up. I love this as much as you do.

  6. says

    Blf:

    The Mistral is still puffing now-and-then, but here it’s sunny enough there were people on the beach. In bikinis. And probably other minimal clothing, but I, err, wasn’t actually looking… I was just at this restaurant next to the beach, see, and, will you couldn’t help watchingseeing…

    Living on the prairie, I’m quite used to wind. Your weather sounds lovely, and If I was by the beach, I’d be seeing too.

  7. Kengi says

    The first week of March we had mid 60’s F temps. I took the opportunity to put out some black tarp over about 1500 sq ft of back yard lawn to kill it off. We promptly got cold/snow for six weeks, but that finally broke a couple of days ago.

    I ordered the prairie flower seeds this morning and in a week or two I’ll be removing the tarp, pulling out the dead grass and weeds, and sowing the seeds.

  8. rq says

    First signs of colour in the wild -- it looks a lot bluer in pictures, but the shade is closer to the violet shade in your Cuttlefish’s Dance. :)
    Flowers pictured:
    Hepatica nobilis
    Scilla siberica Haw.
    Anemone sylvestris (which might be Anemone nemorosa, I’m not sure)
    [final flower as yet unknown]

  9. says

    Kengi @ 7: Best of luck with lawn removal!

    rq @ 8:

    Beautiful! One of the first flowers blooming here (often coming up through snow) is Anemone patens, called Wind flower by indigenous peoples. I love them so, and they are being disappeared, because they won’t grow where land has been plowed.

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