Tuesday afternoon, I drove home in brilliant sunshine with the window down and the heat cut back in my truck. There was power in the sun on that recent March day. The next morning, yesterday, I drove back to work in a snowstorm that made the morning commute as challenging as any this year. Today, Thursday, it's a mauzy day...rain and temps above zero. (For those not familiar with our local dialect, mauzy is a colloquial term to describe a day that is cool, but not cold, characterised by wind, rain and fog.)
The past three days signal the subtle arrival of spring. I say subtle, because unless one is used to our weather, it is tough to tell what season we are in. Winter arrives here with a sudden impact, a huge dump of snow leaving no mistake. Fall's onset is characterised by the notable chill that tinges the air shortly after Regatta Day in early August. Summer, when we get that season, can be a hot, occasionally humid, block of five or six weeks. However, there is no mistaking it when it is here. Not so for spring! We will have a 12 to 14 week period now, of the aforementioned mauziness, punctuated by taunts of summer warmth (anything above five degrees, basically); but another blizzard or two isn't out of the question. So it is the season that nudges its way in, slowly replacing winter, not too pushy in delivering summer, and not as abrupt as Fall.
It gives snowbound motorcyclists such as myself a small glimmer of hope. Last weekend, in brilliant and encouraging sunshine I started both bikes. I just wanted to be sure they were ready for when the time does come to hit the highways again; to ensure they would start and that the fuel stabiliser had done it's job of keeping the gunk at bay. Start they did-- with ease! I stood there and listened for a good 10 minutes with each, breathing in that hypnotic exhaust...aahhhhh ( followed by a bit of hacking and watery eyes...some dizziness too, but all a small price to pay for that sweet 4 cylinder music).
I can only hope now that the nudging season gets a tad more aggressive, or perhaps summer will bully its way ahead of schedule and reward those of us who have endured, nay survived, this dreadful winter; bringing the greatest of gifts...an extended riding season. I live in hope. Here on this little rock in the North Atlantic, sometimes that's all we have. Until then, I shall live vicariously, following the daily bloggings of those livin' the dream that too shall be mine in retirement.
See Ya Out There! Ride On....