We were in the car on the way to drop Riley off at her first playdate with a school mate. The light was red and a lively tune was playing. I looked to my right and watched the winter snow melt, poor gutters giving me a vision of a kick-line of water dancing in a puddle to the beat of the Old Crow Medicine Show. It's amazing what a week can bring. Last Sunday, the wind was blowing ferociously and the wind chill was threatening to burst the thermometers. Today, the sun shone and undid the damage of an angry mother of a snowstorm.
The dancing raindrops augured a gentler time to come, forcing hope to reawaken. Soon we'll pull out the slickers and the umbrellas and watch the bunnies linger in the twilight as we make plans for outdoor adventures. I look forward to the blooming of the many lilac bushes we transplanted that will welcome me home as I make my way from the driveway to the back door. I can remember a time when winter was what I dreamt of. Now, older, I bear the punishments of the cold with a grumpy fortitude, my nose turned to the south and sniffing for warmer winds this late February thaw promises.
But this being northeastern Ohio, I know those promises are merely half-hearted conciliations for the suffering brought by dry, cold winds. I'll wait, with hope for warmth held close to the vest and revel in the hints that cross Mother Nature's brow that the abundance of green will soon surround us.