When The Cicadas Sing

It is said that the first frost comes forty-five days after the first cicadas song.  It is close to the 45-day mark and we had a low of 43° just last week. We are still in September and the weather acts like a woman in menopause, super hot, then chilled.

Mood swings like this birth crazy weather patterns with the mountains either cleaving storms in two so it rains everywhere but here or they funnel the clouds right up the middle of the valley. Sadly, we get freakish storms that blow in, pommel us with 10 minutes of rain and then dissipate as if the storm never happened.

Poor, Split Maple Tree

Most times, the only evidence that something blew through are the sporadic wet parts on the pavement or the heavy, sticky feel to the air. Here recently, the aftermath has included a 12-year-old boy struck by lightning in his front yard (sadly he died) and random branches twisted out of our 80+-year-old maple.

I think it is safe to say that many of the old timer’s weather axioms will need to re-evaluated in the face of climate change. With exception to the brief storm that blew through yesterday, it’s been over 30 days since we’ve had rain.

What axioms do you look too for seasonal changes? Is this one you’ll have to re-evaluate?

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