Yesterday was one of those classic Montana Spring stories, one in which the temperature starts dropping after midmorning, the sun having shone early and the night before having been noticeably mild, a bit of moisture in the air, birds chirped, sprouts continued sprouting… Then around noon a series of cloud fronts rolled in. With each successive wave the temperature would drop, and then swell back up as soon as the sun shown before the next wave of clouds, when the temperature would immediately plummet again, and further. Occasional rain drops turned into occasional snow drops which turned into flurries. By the end of the soccer game that afternoon, it was officially snowing and blowing, and we were all running for the shelter of the van and the impending warmth of hot cocoas. We went to Butterfly (the same favorite café where we almost always go) and got said cocoas along with some decaf lattes for the big kids and we watched as the flying flurries became a sideways blizzard. The wind was howling, the air was white, and the mountains in the distance danced out of sight.
It calmed down a bit as night settled in. The air was only slightly hazed with the tiny white flawless flakes. As you can see gazing from our front door, the wind blew snow in completely covering the porch (even the back of Buddha’s shoulder, there…) in fine cloudy fluff. I love the way it lines the trees. Spring snows are usually better at that than Winter snows, because they tend to be wetter and therefore stickier…
Oh Montana. What a wonder you are.