Mulling things on my morning ramble,
with Storm, the family's mixed Lab.
Is there ever officially slush falling from the sky?
One of those things to consider on a morning like this on the edge of freezing. The pavement was mainly wet but there were patches of ice.
Of course I checked the glossary of the National Weather Service. There is no slush listed.
There was a SLOSH, which is the model used to determine storm surges in hurricanes. Apparently the meteorologists have more wit in them than I normally give them credit for.
I needed an extended ramble this morning, another gray one with some indeterminate something spitting at times from the sky.
That got me to wondering if slush was an official term for falling, semi-frozen precipitation or if it only referred to melting previously frozen precipitation on the ground.
There was lots of water on the ice of the town pond, but so far the ice cap is holding well. See if that lasts the day.
I thought with this weather that the ice fishermen might give up and take their ice shanty home. But no, it was still pulled off the ice by the old boat launch.
Apparently, they think the cold forecast later this week will give them one chance for ice fishing. We'll see. Time is marching on.
Considering the morning, it was rather lively for animal life.
There were lots of songbirds. I even think I heard a cardinal. Seems early for them to be staking out territory, but maybe my memory is bad.
The Canada geese were raising a good ruckus on the lake to the west. I bet by later today they will have quite a hole in the ice there.
A gray squirrel leaped off an electrical line and scurried down a tree as we came out of the brush above the south old clay pit.
Five Canada geese flew low, honking loudly, over town when Storm and I were a couple blocks from home.
The bank clock said 33 degrees.
On the edge of change.