It's snowing. Finally. A thin mist of flakes floating to earth, covering everything in a light gauze that looks like fresh cotton.
I love this weather! I love this …. and yet ...
I am torn between rejoicing and retrenching.
Oh, now we can ski! Oh, now we can ski. Perhaps it was just the idea of bundling against the cold that I had missed … not the packing of bags, the lugging of gear, or dealing with tempers. Somehow, I always manage to blot out those bits.
My shoulders hunch forward under my coat. Hands jammed in my pockets. Muscles tense against the chill, barely remembering the warmth from just a few days ago.
Once the air cuts at my skin, I start to shiver. No matter how many layers I add, I won't get warm. Maybe not even until spring. I wish I could climb back into bed until the gopher gives the OK.
Where are my gloves? I swear I just saw them around here somewhere. I swear they are worse than socks at disappearing.
A blanket of white clings to the annuals, which have been stubbornly clinging to life waiting for winter.
Instead, we got "Swinter," a sloppy mix of seasons that also makes a mess of our emotions as well. We should hate this global phenomenon … but some parts of it seem helpful right now … at least in the short term. Sure, you might miss ice skating on frozen lakes, but you could use the savings on the heating bills.
I have to remind myself that polar bears are dying, and entire communities will soon be submerged.
The grass, freshly green -- the result of nitrogen gifted by a surprise January thunderstorm -- will not lay down for this more appropriate weather arrival. One more month of warmth and I feared I might have to dig out the mower.
I'm sure the fat robins, who haven't left for winter yet, don't mind. They can still pull up tasty things from the ground, which is far from frozen.
They're no more bothered by this layer of snow than I am. I will scrape ice off my windshield and slog through traffic, slowly creeping past motorists who are victims of first-snowfall skids.
I try not to gloat. I feel at one with the retirement crowd. I don't worry about being late these days, so I never feel compelled to meet the speed limit. Slowing down for snow is just in my nature.
Still, I wish it could have been a Snow Day. I know the kids wish so, too, even though I wonder what difference it makes? So they can watch videos of other kids doing things for the entire day and not just the two hours between dinner and bedtime.
It's probably for the best this snowfall waited until mid-day to make its arrival.
Instead, the kids are waiting to be picked up here, and transported there, as per usual.
I don't feel I have any right to complain. It's been mild enough that our bikes are still on the road and weekend long runs can be completed comfortably in shorts.
It's not as if I hadn't weathered umpteen winters before this one. Swinter will feel like a day at the beach.