No cherry blossoms here.  The only things blooming are the plants on my kitchen island.  Including the poinsettia that still retains its brilliant red leaves.  Perhaps it’s a sign.  Winter has not given up her grip on Minnesota yet.

I can now claim have been cross-country skiing in April.  It’s a distinction I do not need to make for May.  This morning I traded my skis for snowshoes – they seemed better suited to the deep, wet snow.  Another first.  Tramping through the soft, unblemished snow in the woods along Amity Creek was peaceful, but had lost some of its appeal.  Something about the calendar…

We had such high hopes for spring just a few weeks ago.  Sitting in the Adirondack chairs on the deck in the sun it was easy to believe in warmth and a thaw.  I was sure it was the start of a good trend.  We even discussed what wildflowers we wanted to sow in our yard.  I won’t be rushing out to buy seeds any time soon.

Amity Creek broke through its icy prison a little while back.  We welcomed the return of the water’s roar as it flowed over the rocks with renewed gusto – white noise that we enjoy hearing from our open windows.  Today I could barely distinguish the waterfall at The Deeps through the frosty trees in the foreground.

Minnesota has its own unique flavor of spring.  Just this once, I wouldn’t mind being a bit more mainstream.