Spring? Not so fast. As if flipping a cosmic thermostat, winter has staged an encore performance across European Russia this week. Thermometers gasp in disbelief, registering digits better suited to January than mid-April. The atmospheric plot twist sees Moscow buried under what locals might call "zima 2.0" – complete with snow squalls that dance like drunken ballerinas across Red Square.
Moscow transforms into a snow globe shaken by capricious winds:
The mercury's pathetic attempts at rising resemble an elevator with broken cables – just when temperatures nearly reach zero, they plummet again. Atmospheric pressure performs its own rollercoaster routine, swinging from 747 to 730 mmHg like an indecisive barometer.
While Muscovites curse their frostbit tulips, Peterburgers face a different malaise. The Baltic's thermal inertia delivers:
This meteorological betrayal feels particularly cruel when history whispers of warmer days:
In 1975, Moscow baked at +24°C this very week – enough for tank tops and ice cream. The 1881 cold records (-14.9°C) now loom like icy specters. St. Petersburg's 2024 saw +22°C on April 10 – a tropical dream compared to this year's frozen reality.
As Muscovites dig out winter coats from storage and Petersburgers rue their premature stowage of ice scrapers, one truth becomes clear: Russian spring exists on the calendar's promise alone, not nature's compliance.
