What an amazing feeling.
It was still light out when I left work after a meeting. It stayed light while I was shopping in the
store. It even remained light while I
stood in the parking lot yapping with a pal before heading home. Couldn't even believe it stayed light while I
unloaded groceries and work paraphernalia from my car. Amazing.
According to a coworker, The
Farmer's Almanac is predicting one more major snowstorm for March. I'm thinking three more moderate storms right
through April. It just seems like that
kind of a pattern. Either way, we are
definitely closer to spring than we were a few weeks ago, and that makes me
happy. I just hope it doesn't seem like
I'm wishing time away. It's just that I
really do prefer summer, for the most part, and I'm starting to wonder why I
continue to put up with the snow.
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I used to put up with the snow because I liked it when I was
a kid. I skied, I skated, I
sledded. One of my favorite activities
used to be chopping the driveway ice with the big metal chopper, breaking off
huge chunks and heaving them into the woods like enormous glass shot puts. The only time I didn't like the sound of
cracking ice was when I was skating on it.
It was exceptionally unnerving when the pond would suddenly shift and
crack while we were hundreds of yards from shore. It didn't help knowing that some of the
places we skated were fed by warm streams that wove through decomposing marshes
and swamps. I often got visions of Damien: Omen II, the clip where the pond
hockey game went horribly wrong, a movie scene that still scares the crap out
of me to this day.
I don't care so much for the snow anymore. Oh, it's beautiful when it falls and
exquisite when it adheres to the trees and stone walls. But beauty, as they say, is only skin
deep. I'm a beach girl at heart. I long for those beach days. I'm looking forward to the late afternoons
with my toes in the sand or bringing home beach rocks to build a friend's
garden border. Sangria and sunburns and
sea breezes. Sharks and jelly fish and
screaming children and annoying radios.
Greenhead flies and mosquitoes and wasps. Ice cream and seafood on restaurant decks and
long walks outside. Fresh fruit and corn
on the cob.
I'll take it all.
I have to live through the waning days of winter and the
waxing weeks of spring, first. Now that
it stays lighter later, I feel like I can do it. I'm going to make it. I can feel it; I can smell it; I can sense
it.
Summer's coming. Not
today, unfortunately, but it'll be here.
I'm ready. Except for the bathing
suit top. Really need a new one. And more sandals. Maybe some shorts. A new beach chair. Mini paper umbrellas for blender drinks.
Other than that, I swear to you, I'm ready.
