03/27/2026
Just days ago, Ohio was in full āwinter is finally overā modeā¦
which, to be fair, lasted about 36 hours.
People had the windows open.
Jackets were tossed aside like theyād been personally offended.
Hoodies turned into ājust in caseā layers.
Someone fired up a grill. Someone else said,
āManā¦ we made it.ā
And Ohio let them have it.
Let them enjoy it.
Let them sit outside with coffee like life was stable.
Let them say, āI think weāre past the worst of it.ā
Then this morningā¦
34Ā°.
Wind.
The kind of wind that has intentions.
It didnāt creep back in.
It didnāt ease in.
It hit like it had been waiting around the corner, arms crossed, ready to remind you whoās actually in charge.
And the truly Ohio part?
Nobody is actually surprised.
The surprise is performative.
Every Ohioan who stepped outside and immediately regretted their outfit made that same faceā¦
that āoh come onā lookā¦
while already turning back inside to grab a heavier jacket they absolutely knew theyād need.
Because deep down, every Ohioan knowsā¦
You donāt trust a warm stretch.
You donāt celebrate it.
You donāt pack anything away.
You donāt even say āspring is hereā out loud.
That hoodie? Still within reach.
That winter coat? Still on standby.
The ice scraper? Never left the car.
Those few nice days?
Trial version.
The same neighbor who was outside grilling two days ago is now speed-walking to their car, shoulders up, keys already in hand, acting like this is a completely normal lifestyle.
And right when you think thatās the worst of itā¦
The sky goes gray.
Not dramatic. Justā¦ disappointed.
Then comes the mix:
Rain.
Sleet.
Maybe a little snowājust enough to make everything worse but not enough to be useful.
Ohio didnāt bring winter back today.
Ohio never let it leave.
It just stepped aside for a momentā¦
watched everyone get comfortableā¦
and then said,
āYeahā¦ no.ā
Keep the jacket close.
Keep the heater ready.
Keep checking the forecast like it means something.
Because Ohio isnāt doneā¦
and it never was. š
