Here in New England, nor'easters are a part of life. A nor'easter, for those lucky enough never to have experienced one, is a major storm that blows up the east coast of the United States with horrendous winds and lots of snow.
Except, this is April. The weatherman doesn't seem to have noticed because the temps here are miserably cold and if there's a sun up there behind those clouds, we haven't seen it in a while. And April is definitely not nor'easter time.
Nevertheless, a nor'easter blew in late Saturday night and spent the weekend and part of today with us. In deference to the fact that it's April, the storm brought rain rather than snow. And I do mean RAIN!!! There's a river a couple of miles from us that's usually shallow and placid. Today, it's running as if the hounds of hell were after it.
Along with the rain came wind. I could hear stuff hitting our house all last night. In fact, I figured looking outside this morning would be, for lack of a better word, interesting. We have lots and lots (and lots) of trees. Well, we lost a number of branches but, thank goodness, no trees. And the bulbs our son planted on the slope in front of our house last fall came through just fine. (The dozens of bulbs, tulips and daffs and gorgeous blue things with a name I can't recall, plus the hard work of planting them, were an anniversary gift from our son and daughter-in-law last June. It was, without question, one of the most loving, most thoughtful gifts we've ever received.)
Back to our nor'easter. It's Monday evening and the rain has tapered off. The wind has pretty much stopped. The sky is the color of tarnished pewter but I do know that it's Spring, thanks to the bulbs poking through the soil. And I just heard the pair of Barred Owls who live in our woods calling to each other as they set out on their nightly hunt. Those calls are a sure sign Spring is really here, no matter how gloomy it looks in our part of New England.