March in Maine - who are we now?

It's all my fault. On March 19th (top photo), I put my snowshoes away in the attic. I was lulled into resignation by a long stretch of springlike weather. On March 21 (bottom photo), morning brought a six-inch carpet of white, blowing in billows. For those of you impatient for warm weather - sorry! But I confess I was thrilled. I am a cool weather person, and I love snow.  I felt cheated of snow this winter, so spring brought us a nice little compensation gift.

Even though Daisy is from Alabama, she was even more excited than I was to finally have a Maine snowstorm to play in. Her doggie zoomies created wild patterns of overlapping circles all over the yard. Since I didn't have my snowshoes handy, my track is just a furrow of trudging boots, but it was easy walking. This is the best snow - light, fluffy, you can blow it off the car, when you brush against a tree branch, cascades of sparkle drift around you on their way to the ground.

This is late winter in Maine, and I'm basking in it. Who knows how long we will know it? In a few years we may have springs like the ones you associate with Virginia. How much of our identity is wrapped into our home climate? More than we realize, I think. Mainers are tough, rugged, resilient, able to face those infamous, unpredictable northeast storms with staunch resolve, with generosity to snowed-in neighbors without power.

But what happens when all we get is a few little decorative snowfalls and a lovely, warm spring? Who will we be then?  

I guess we'll have to get better with ticks and invasive flora. I'd rather have snow. So maybe I'll try putting my snowshoes away early next year too.