Our neighborhood ski resort opened Friday, despite temperatures in the mid 30’s (~2 C). They had a bare minimum number of runs open, but considering that the rest of the countryside is exposed and brown, it was kind of a miracle. At the very least, it’s a testament to their heroic snow-making efforts. We skied for about an hour and a half in the sun on Friday afternoon, and thank goodness, because it has been Dreary (yes, capital D) out since.
Yesterday we had a mix of big, fat, heavy snowflakes, and drizzle. By today, the weather had switched over to intermittent drizzle, which turned the remaining snow on the ground into drifts of impenetrable fog. At least the roads were safe for a drive-about.
I feel like a child, wishing it was just a few degrees colder, so that all this icky rain would be beautiful, usable snow. Soon, I think/hope. In the mean time, I’ll just remember that the world does sometimes have both snow and color.