Spring usually conjures an image of green and colorful profusion of blossoms. That happens here in the mountains in what most people refer to as summer. Spring in the mountains, at least in terms of the calendar, is a no-mans land between winter and summer: warm temperatures one day, 3 feet of snow the next.
Signs of spring as of now:
- The brown lawn is no longer buried under the snow and has a tinge of green.
- The birds are singing.
- The ice on the nearby reservoir is no longer white, but a color closer to gray turquoise.
- The days are longer.
- Last night, the first thunder and hail storm of the year.
Oh, and the neighborhood raccoon has awakened from his slumbers.
Raccoon tracks, up the porch steps and straight for the garbage can to the left.
Nothing in the garbage can, then to the door to see if anyone is home. Then back down the steps.
The snowpack is still below average. The latest article I read said “68% of normal”. I always take issue with calling it “normal”. “Average” is the correct word, as the weather is never normal. Statistically, Colorado weather spends most of it’s time in the extremes.
I tend to think the drought is over. Although we’re not going to make up for winter’s deficit of precipitation, it seems like spring is a little wetter than it was last year. This gives me hope that maybe there will be wildflowers this year.
Looking towards the mountains last week, from the flatlands, somewhere between Longmont and Berthoud, Colorado. Smoke from controlled burning is visible.
The media is exclaiming in dramatic fashion about the upcoming fire season being severe. It’s really too early to tell. But in any case, after 100+ years of fire suppression coupled with more people living in the forested areas, the fire seasons are always going to be severe. And it’s going to continue to get worse regardless of the weather. Fire is a natural function of the ecosystem.
I’m still running the two businesses, electronic engineering and pinball/jukebox repair. Neither is particularly prosperous right now, in spite of working days and evenings. It hasn’t left me much time for the things I enjoy like hiking and photography. In the upcoming week, when I calculate my taxes, I’ll crunch some numbers to see how sustainable it is. My gut is telling me that it’s not. I don’t know where I’d find the time to add a third source of income.
The raccoon tracks are so cute. 🙂 I can’t believe there is still snow. We are already headlong into spring.
This raccoon has caused me so much frustration in the past, that it’s difficult for me to feel like his tracks are cute. I had murderous feelings towards him once. But now that my trash can is impenetrable and my neighbor who piled trash in his yard has moved out, we can live more harmoniously. 🙂
This spring has definitely offered more in the way of precipitation, and up high, there’s a lot more snow than last year. I’m not sure about the drought, though.
Those critter tracks are fantastic.
I have wondered how you’ve been fairing. Hang in there. Hopefully, sometime soon, we can get together for a trek. Or at least dinner.
There is definitely more snow this spring than in the previous two springs. But we’ll (likely) never make up the deficit of winter. Who knows, in a few weeks we might get one of our famous 6-foot snowfalls.
We’ve had a fairly mild winter though the mountains have record breaking snow-packs.
I think we are the only part of the country to have spring to any degree, with the usual rain!
Love your photographs, especially the animal tracts.:)
Sorry about the work situation, that must be a worry. I hope it changes for you very soon.
Just yesterday, one of the big banks here, was caught outsourcing Tech work. There was an outcry from the public, to the point where some closed their accounts. The Bank has stated they will re-hire the forty employees.
I do think there is a backlash starting regarding the outsourcing.
I’m glad some people are retaliating and it’s creating some change. One of our Senators has introduced a bill to break up the big banks. He says if they’re too big to fail, they are too big to exist.