As I was scraping the thick ice off my windshield Monday morning, I wondered what had happened to spring.

 

A day earlier, temperatures were in the 40s - close to 50 in some areas, and I was already looking forward to doing more things outside. The snow had melted on a good portion of the farm fields, except for a few spots in the shade.

 

Rita and I were talking about what we should be planting in the garden this year. And we even thought about building a greenhouse to make the growing season a little longer.

 

But it’s Minnesota, where a warm spring-like day, or even a week,  can be just a tease.  It’s happened plenty of times before in the 17 years I’ve been here.

 

I remember taking photos more than 10 years ago of cows grazing in a field in early April. A day later, there was nothing but white everywhere when a late spring storm dropped 14 inches of heavy, wet slushy snow in Central Minnesota. 

 

More than once in the past few years, opening day for high school baseball was a whiteout, even though the weather had been warm enough the previous few weeks for outdoor practice. 

 

Just a week ago I was watching a spring training baseball game on TV. Green grass, blue skies, fans in shirtsleeves... That’s probably what fueled my anticipation for warmer weather here in Minnesota. I guess I should have paid more attention to the palm trees in the background behind the outfield fences.

 

But there were signs of spring, even here in the Great White North. Those leaves I never had a chance to rake last fall were exposed again. The ladybug/beetle things were crawling on the windows of the porch. I even thought I saw a mosquito (just kidding).

 

After the snowstorm earlier in the week, everything is covered again. The fields are white. Every farm building roof has at least six inches of snow, with icicles hanging off the edges.

 

Snow drifts measuring at least two feet deep resemble long fingers across the driveway, blown there from the open fields by 40-mile per hour northeast winds that rattled the farmhouse windows and brought down some pretty hefty branches from the oak trees.

 

It was like someone was playing a cruel joke on all of us - again.

 

I’m determined not to shovel paths from building to building again, just like I did a few weeks ago. No more talk about a greenhouse, or planting the garden, or what to include in the yard sale after spring cleaning.  

 

This time, I’ll wait for Mother Nature to do her job and melt the stuff.