2 days Ago By Ann Bailey
On March 13, 2024, I texted a photo of our snowless, brown front lawn to my son, Thomas, who lives in southern California, and told him that Frodo, our house cat, had gone outside that day for his first farmstead patrol of the year. I also mentioned to Thomas that the weather had been beautiful that week, but added a caveat that there were still a couple of months left before we could be sure that we wouldn’t get snow. Of course, he already knew that, after living the first 19 years of his life in North Dakota, so perhaps my cautionary note was more to remind myself than to educate him.
Ten days later, our lawns were insulated by about 5 inches of fresh, white snow. It actually took less than 10 days for my prediction that more snow could fall before spring became a reality. Between March 13 and March 23, there was what forecasters call an “active” weather pattern, and we had several days in which an inch or 2 of snow fell.
Those snowfalls melted within a few hours, leaving muddy roads and fields behind. I know this, not just from my own observation, but also from the state of our dogs’ paws when they come into the house after a walk. Even when I don’t let Casey and Nova off of the leash, their golden retriever hairy legs and paws manage to pick up dirt and debris from the roads and roadsides, which they track into the house.
Taking two leashed energetic golden retrievers on a walk down gravel roads is a lesson in patience and acrobatics, such as twirling in circles while I switch the leashes behind my back when they decide to trade places — but it’s better than having our kitchen floor look like the Back Forty before it’s been planted. Every time I’ve taken Casey and Nova for a walk this month, I’ve told myself it was one day closer to the day when the temperatures would be too warm for it to snow. Seeing the fields soaking in the moisture and the ditches dry also boosted my spirits.
On March 22, after a period of a few days of no precipitation, I was elated that the ground finally had dried enough to let the dogs off of the leash on our walk. Casey and Nova appeared just as happy as I felt and raced in circles in the fields, ran down the road and back to me and munched on old corn cobs. Our joy, though, was short-lived because the next morning the trace to an inch of snow that had been forecast had piled up to five times that much.
While I was disappointed in the snowfall, after more than six decades of living in the northern Plains I’m resigned to it. My cap, coat, hat, gloves and boots went back on me and the leashes went back on the dogs for our walks. None of the three of us are particularly happy about that, but we do enjoy being outside, and we make the best of it as we await for “real” spring.
When that will be is anyone’s guess. It could be tomorrow or it could be six weeks from now. Either way, Casey, Nova and I will keep stepping forward two feet and eight paws at a time.
Ann Bailey lives on a farmstead near Larimore, North Dakota, that has been in her family since 1911. You can reach her at 218-779-8093 or [email protected].
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