Obviously, we can do nothing about the weather, except complain. So, I think I will. Up here in Maine, we are experiencing one of the weirdest winters I can remember. (Unfortunately, my dimming memory goes back only about a decade, lately.)
OK - one day it's 62 degrees. Two days later:
One day, the snow is gone.
Three days pass, and:
That's all I've got to say, for the moment.
Just a week ago, I posted pictures of deep, dismal snow:
The temperature on this ride was in the high 20s
Now look at this delightful photo of my very accurate Vespa thermometer:
From a favorite spot to view a large part of Sebago Lake, a pair of young ladies walk along the shore
While the clouds look menacing, it never rained on this marvelously mild Monday afternoon
The field of blue here isn't water - it is a yard full of cocooned boats, waiting impatiently for the spring
Notice how little ice covers the lake - and how perilously thin it is
The ice is only safe for birds
I must post this picture again in closing - 62 degrees at 1:11 pm on January 14, 2013!
With tongue in cheek, I review the past month as a "treat." Actually, I have used my snowblower more frequently than my Vespa.
Four storms versus three rides, but who's counting?
Most of December, I endured a horrible cold, so severe I thought it might be the end! But my dear wife cheered me up with the following cartoon:
Once I recovered enough to venture out, I rode down to Old Orchard Beach, scene of so many happy summer days.
There is indeed an ocean above the snow
While I rested in my misery, Kathy cleared our roof of new-fallen snow.
From the left, our eldest son Daniel, Tim's wife Meredith, Tim, Andrew, and his lady Abra
Posted with Blogsy
