For the past three days it hasn’t gotten above freezing here in the Portland area. Today it barely made it up to 35°. I call that a waste of cold weather. We have a wet, mild climate and don’t get much snow. Basically, there are two recipes for the white stuff. One is when we get wet weather immediately followed by an arctic blast. The precipitation falls as snow then a frigid high-pressure system moves in to chase away the clouds. The cold temps that follow keep the snow on the ground, sometimes for more than a week.
The other situation is one that might happen this weekend. We get a cold snap, and as the Siberian Express chugs off to the east a wet, a low-pressure area swoops in to fill the void. Precipitation starts out as snow or freezing rain but doesn’t last long.
I feel ripped off this year. I’ve had to endure this brutal cold (stop snickering you mid-westerners) but didn’t get any white stuff to make it worthwhile. Everything’s frozen solid outside, the heat stays on constantly, and I even found ice in my greenhouse, in spite of the heater I stuck in there. This does not bode well for my tender babies. But my biggest gripe is it’s too darned nippy for walking. My current WIP has been bashful about revealing itself to me. The one surefire way to kick-start my brain is to take a walk with my digital recorder. I did finally brave the cold yesterday, and two full scenes poured forth as a result.
I may be weird, but I don’t mind rain in the winter. It feels cozy and inspires me to write. On the other hand I figure that every sunny day we get is one we’re trading for a wet day next June. Fortunately, we should be back to our typical cold rain by Monday.