It’s not officially winter yet, I know.
It is, however, the middle of December. And it’s 50°F outside!
Inches of rain scalded the house in the last 24 hours. What should have been a colossal snowstorm has gushed down the gutters and to the river. Such a waste. I’m actually getting the itch to ride around on the Deere, the grass is so long and green. Balmy weather like this after a cold snap brings spring peepers to mind.
The ice formations were so ethereal on Saturday. No snow on the ground, but it was cold enough for the spray from Gambo Dam along the Presumpscot River to form rime ice and water stalactites along the western bank raceway. This morning, the water was tumbling forcefully through the ledge, the ice replaced with rushing rapids.
In the breezeway, the snowshoes, boots and poles sit patiently, waiting for relevance.
For today, the practice of patience eludes me.