Pushing and Shoving into March

 Around here, as far as the weather is concerned, March is one of those months that's kind of like getting your head stuck in the blinds. You know it's probably not going to be all that awful to get out of it but it's still likely to be a hassle and will really mess with your hair.

 Flipping the calendar to March does make me feel like winter could finally be on it's way out. Of course there's those little reminders that where lots of other people live the flowers will be blooming and the birds will be singing and they won't be freezing their behinds off shoveling snow.

That's ok, even if the scene outside my window tells a much different story, my tulips will eventually come up and bloom too, just not until late May or early June. Calendars can be so cruel.

 

I have probably mentioned that the town where I live is situated on a sizable lake and a lot of community events are centered around it, if not in it. There's always something going on involving fishing or boating or doing stupid stuff in order to raise money for charity. Thanks to weeks of continual sub-zero temperatures the ice ends up being about two feet thick and the lake turns into a shanty town of ice fishing shacks and a parking lot for their owner's SUVs . . . until last week.

This winter, the ice started to thaw at the end of February instead of it's usual time in April! The fishing shanties were forced to make a hasty retreat (which looked exactly like an outhouse parade) and the requisite number of SUVs ended up submerged in the water. There was always an office pool where I worked to place bets on which day the most vehicles would fall through the ice. A really nice guy won almost every year and then he would buy everyone lunch, but that's another story.

So just when it was beginning to look like we were in for an early spring (and we were trying not to be too happy about it considering it's due to climate change), it got really windy for several days. 

Then the ice started to move.

 

A pile of ice pushed together by wind or waves is called a shove. It get everyone's attention, especially the ones who live on the lake, because it mangles docks and threatens to invade anything close to the shoreline. They're pretty noisy, too. The ones that formed last week sounded like giant capiz shell wind chimes as they moved onshore. Some of the blocks came apart in long shards like broken glass. As the wind kept blowing, the ice continued to pile up and the shoves started to grow . . 

. . . and  grow,

and grow!

Eventually quite a crowd came out to admire the phenomenon and climb to the top . . .

. . . so they could check their messages? Seriously?

Is it that important to know what everyone else is doing instead of climbing to the top of a pile of ice?

Yes, it probably is.

  

Meanwhile, back at home and at a safe distance from the ice shoves, Burt is testing out my theory about March in actuality. He is tangled up in a little March madness of his own making.

Luckily he has no hair. How is March treating you so far?

I hope everyone had a great weekend!