Between the Sunshine and the Snowflakes

giphy

Whoever said that March comes “in like a lion and out like a lamb” has obviously never been to Cedar City. We are a relatively small town surrounded by farmland, so lambs aren’t that hard to find, and the closest thing we have to a lion is that of the mountain variety. However, Cedar’s March weather has not the gentleness of a lamb nor the ferocity of a lion, but the spastic force of a rabies-driven squirrel.

It is near impossible to use a single adjective to describe weather in Cedar City. One day it will be filled with wind that slices straight through the skin to the bone, and the next day there will be nothing but cloudless skies and a few hundred doves enjoying the sunshine. It’s as though whoever is in charge of planning Spring weather just hits a “randomizer” button on their weather machine and calls it good. There is no pattern, no order, no sense to this natural phenomenon. Cedar City residents learn to have a sunshield, umbrella, and snow scraper in their cars at all times, just in case. There are some days when we need all three.

Take this past Thursday, for example. 8:40 AM: I enter my car and drive to school. The weather is slightly chilly, enough for me to need a light jacket, but I assume that the weather will warm up over the course of the day. That is my first mistake.

Fast forward to 11:30 AM. The sky is smudged with gray clouds from which raindrops fall sporadically. However, looking into the distance it appears as though the clouds are retreating elsewhere. I ride along with a coworker in the mail truck. We have the usual few brushes with death, but neither of us find the rain to be too concerning.

12:30 PM. I walk from the work building to my car. The rain is falling at a frequency that requires me to use my jacket’s hood and causes me to jam my hands as far as they can go into the pockets. I curse whoever designed my tiny-pocketed jacket.

12:35 PM. In the time it has taken me to drive to a parking lot on the opposite end of the University’s campus, the raindrops have morphed into tiny snowflakes. I place my car into park and reach for the door handle, but my hand quickly recoils as a piece of ice slams into the window. I spend the next five minutes stress-eating a bag of pretzels in my car as hail rains from the sky and bounces across the parking lot. I’m fearful that I’ll miss my next class, but there is no way I’m going into that swarm of happily-dancing ice and risk losing an eye.

12:45 PM. As fast as it came, the hail storm ceases and I safely relocate from my car to my classroom without incident.

1:30 PM. My attention drifts from my professor to the windows and I almost scream at the snow that drifts down from the sky like powder sugar raining down on a crepe. I am wailing internally at the injustice of it all as I watch the white death frost the bright pink and white blossoms I had been admiring around campus just the day before.

2:15 PM. I walk back to my car with my freezing fingers jammed in my jacket’s useless pockets. My hair has floofed into an almost uncanny imitation of Bob Ross’s hair. The snowflakes are so large that I can actually hear them slapping against my backpack. I reach the parking lot, and they have decreased in size. I contemplate just freezing to death in my car, but decide that my warm house sounds more appealing, so I suck it up and excavate my car from the snow. By the time I get home, the snow has stopped completely.

As you can probably guess, I was not happy by this mid-March weather extravaganza. The week before had been gorgeous, with nothing but sunshine and temperature in the 60’s. Then Mother Nature decided to yell “psych!” and pelt me in the face with chunks of ice.

That’s not even the worst of it. Every year my family has these two flowers that grow in front of our house. I can’t tell you what kind they are; all I know is that they are white and stunning and signify to me that Spring has finally stopped dragging it’s feet and is on its way.

This is the second year I’ve had to watch them die due to a last-minute snowstorm. Why is April Fool’s in April, when March clearly finds it funny to turn something like this:

myflowers

Into this:

mydeadflowers

Just posting these pictures makes me want to cry. For once I would just like to enjoy my whatever-these-are without the Cedar City Weather Squirrel sinking it’s teeth into them. Where’s the March lion when you need it? I have a squirrel-sized treat with it’s name on it.

And while the lion and squirrel are duking it out, that leaves the lamb to do it’s thing. Then, and only then, will I be able to enjoy a peaceful transition into Spring.

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