Sunday, February 17, 2008

Dreams of Spring

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.


  1. How's that pleasant day feel now? To say Ohio's weather is fickle would be an absurd understatement. In Columbus yesterday's high was 62, today ~40, tomorrow is supposed to peak at 20. But it is February; I'd rather have winter in Feb than spring. Gives me hope that the environment may not be totally effed (yet).

  2. remember what Keillor said: "this is spring like spring painted on a brick wall, and when you reach in to pick a flower, you bust your knuckles."

    of course, we have no such problems down here, but I know you like the change of seasons and I'll refrain from reinviting you for the 20,000 time to the sunshine State.

  3. I completely agree about the turning a nose towards a different direction...although mine is usually pointed west, towards my ersatz home of California.

    Lovely post, and the imagery evokes thoughts of a day spent watching the melting occur whilst planted in front of the window.

    There'd probably be some music playing somewhere in the background as well...I'm thinking of something cheerful like Starflyer 59...not busy like Rush.

  4. Jeff: Are Starflyer 59 a ragtag group of "Less is more" poseurs?

    HL: I'm afraid that I if I move down there, I'll lose my edge.

    PG: I don't care if the environment is totally effed. I want some sunshine, dammit!