It is here

I think you are right, Steve (maybe a bit like with Eyjafjallajökull, did it ever come your way?).

First something heavy and transparent, then something heavy and white weighing the lower branches completely down, then frost to make the tips stick to the ground and heavy wind to blow off most of the white stuff, all during the night to leave the strange sight above (some may have the same feeling of being stuck when Illy freeezes).

Now winter is over and we have gone back to autumn (I hope) or forth to spring (I fear).

Pleasure for looking at but I fear that only the very hardiest souls would wish to swim in it.

Doug, I think you speak for South-central Alaska as well. Lots and lots of rain, occasional nighttime freezing. Amazing orange orb settling through the Cook Inlet fog as we drove south late this afternoon, but no time to stop for a photo.

And maybe we shall never know how it ended.

Day before yesterday near -17℃, now at 3℃. It seems that we've had more days of melting than not for the past two months, yet still there's white slipperyness everywhere. Not particularly picture-worthy. We can do without the rain. No ash for a couple of years, I think.

How many words are there for (what feels like) snow in Icelandic, Steve (including different values of K and maybe even CMY)?

I'll have to read up on NAO, but later: music project has priority.

Ours is still here, crunchy and wet. Too gray and depressing for a photo today. Cow and calf moose in the yard, driving the dogs crazy.

It seems tht it is actually here

And they were not aalone thee were easily a couple of thousand of them trying to get into every bar.