Montana is known for bonkers weather changes. Perhaps you recall that time in January of 1980 when the temperature at the Great Falls International Airport rose from -32°F to 15°F degrees in only seven minutes as warm chinook winds cut through an Arctic airmass. And little ol’ Loma, Montana, still holds the U.S. record for a 24-hour temperature swing. There, on January 15, 1972, another chinook event forced a temperature rise from −54°F to 49°F. That’s a 103°F shift in readings.
That is pretty crazy
stuff. Or, as we like to say in my
hometown of East Helena, Montana: “Dammit!”
Over recent weeks, we have been
ping-ponging between fall and winter. I
am confused. The lake is confused
(freeze, or not freeze). Trees are
confused. Bugs are particularly
confounded.
When temperatures rise into the
forties, some of the local flying insects will emerge from hiding in our snowbound
landscapes and take a spin around. We ascended
into the forties yesterday. When I stepped
outside late in the afternoon, I spotted a fly zipping toward me in the warmish
air. Before I could think “I’ll be
darned,” the fly crashed full-speed into my forehead.
It’s a hard and confusing life
around here this time of year.
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