Lion, get thee out of our backyard!

Our snowy little house in the woods

Unfortunately, we Upper Peninsula folks have a lion hangin’ around lately.

You know the old saying, “March comes in like a lion, goes out like a lamb”?

Well, we have an awful unruly lion carrying on in these parts.  We surely must.

Remember our late February snowstorm last week?

Now wasn’t that enough?

OK, we only received six new inches here, after the weather-folk blew ominous predictions so convincingly that they cancelled almost all the schools last Wednesday.  (They did have a snow emergency down in the southern U.P., so, OK, maybe the weather-folk were justified in their Magic 8-Ball weather guesses.)

However, this weekend, our ho-hum weather predictor gabbed on about 1-3 inches, blah, blah, nothing much, just a little snow, don’t get all alarmed folks, but don’t you dare travel east to Marquette because there’s a Winter Storm Warning over there.

We yawned and didn’t think much about it.  One to three inches of snow is par for the course in our neck of the woods.  Barely enough to plow the driveway, and besides, isn’t it March now?  And isn’t it supposed to be 43 degrees (6.1 Celsius) by next week?

It started snowing Saturday morning.  And then it snowed on until lunch-time.  By mid-afternoon, I could hardly reach the mailbox without straining calf muscles plowing through deep snow.  By dinner time Barry and I lifted our eyebrows and repeatedly said, “Really?  Really?  It’s STILL snowing?”

Our snowy little 1949 Studebaker in the woods

By bedtime we were Truly Amazed.  It had not let up.  The wind pursed its March lips and blew and the March lion paced outside the window.

In the middle of the night, it still snowed.

Most of it was lake-effect snow, which everyone knows comes from a warm lake and a chilly weather system.  We hardly ever get lake-effect snow come March, because usually our Keweenaw and Huron Bays are frozen solid and ice fishermen lure silver-finned trout from the depths with long wires baited 270 feet deep.

Not this year.  The bays remain merrily bobbing with waves, driving Lake Superior ice fishermen to despair.  It’s been an odd warm winter, even though snow still fills our woods.

By Sunday morning it was still snowing.  We stared at one another in disbelief.

Would that March lion please, please, depart our woods and find some other forest in which to prowl?

By 9 a.m. the lion decided to slink off among the spruce and maple trees, headed over that yonder hill–probably toward your house.  He dumped at least twenty seven inches on Ishpeming, a town an hour away, growling as he passed.

Since he’s reputedly gone, and hopefully we won’t get another foot or more of the white fluffy stuff, I am going to present one last series of snowy winter photos.  Once again, don your winter clothing.  Don’t forget your mittens and boots.  I have an extra pair or two of snowshoes.  Strap ’em on and let’s go explore this enchanted winter wonderland.

Don’t be nervous about that lion.

I’m sure he’s gone.

I’m pretty sure he’s gone.

I’m sure…

He’s probably off and hunting that March Lamb for dinner.  Let’s hope he doesn’t find it…

Looking out our window at the snowy woods--wait! Do you see that Lion?

Some snowy maple branches

By the Shores of the snowy Silver River

Three small Spruce Children

Do you see lion tracks on the river? Do you?

Look up! Is the lion hiding among the cedar boughs, clever Lion?

Let's travel down a small woods road sheltered by pines and snow...

Evergreen Paradise. (The better to hide crafty lions)

Red fences, designed to keep lions out.

Don't keep glancing in your mirror, looking for that lion amidst the snow. Let's keep our eyes forward...