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.
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