Vagaries of weather

Early this morning when I went down to the laundry room to feed the cat, I glanced out the back door's window to see what I thought was a cat sauntering up our walk-way.  Secondarily I noticed also that we were experiencing a blizzard; more on that in a moment.

The critter approaching the back porch was walking in a serpentine line rather than a direct approach.  My first thought was; gee this cat has a face like an owl, Barn owl to be exact.  As the varmint drew closer I got a clearer vision and realized that it was , in fact, a opossum.  Wow, how cool is that?  We've suspected for a number of years now that a possum or family of such were residing in the woodshed attached to the rear of our garage, but I'd never seen them.  Well, now I can say I've seen a opossum up close and personal.  I thought perhaps he/she: who can tell?, was going to reconnoiter the recyclable bin just outside the back door.  We throw our cans and bottles in there including the empty cat food tins, but they are all washed and rinsed before hand.  Nope, he/she never even stopped for a sniff, but rather, just sidled along by the grill and exited the porch in the direction of the afore mentioned woodshed.  Whether or not that was his final destination, I can't say because I didn't follow him being dressed in PJ's  and slippers as I was and the weather being all wintery and such.

Weather.  Yes, yesterday I returned from the frat house between 0730 and 0830 to the home abode.  It was raining heavily and the temperature fluctuated between 33 F. at the Massena end to 36 F. on the Morristown end.  The roads were not icy though and as the day progressed the temps rose to the high forties.  Just the kind of day that serves as a precursor to spring and gives those sick and tired of winter hope that spring is truly on it's way.  Snow banks receded rapidly and were mere skeletons of their former selves when we returned from dining at the Lodge last night.  So imagine the chagrin the morning was greeted with as  spring seekers looked on winter renewing itself with forceful determination and with the weatherman predicting an accumulation of anywhere from 6" to a foot of the white stuff. I guess I'd better put fuel in the snow blower.

Perhaps we can say: winter was just playing possum with us.