After weeks of utter frigidity, suddenly I feel as though I’ve been transported further south than I already am.
We’ve had week after week of blustery weather here in Anytown. Grey, frosty, windy, and rainy—in short, utterly poetic, and giving me an unending hankering for hot tea and Bronte novels.
Yet, somehow, suddenly, it is spring. The air is warm and smells of the promise of rain. The birds get up and sing earlier and louder than I’d really like them to. The sun is no longer encumbered by clouds, and feels free to bump the temperature and the brightness up by several degrees. I’ve got the sunburn to prove it.
Of course, this is Anytown we’re talking about. It was bright and balmy today, but there’s monsoon in the forecast for tomorrow. And then, two days later, there will be sunshine again.
But our less-than-silvery-white winter, at last, is melting into spring.
My hankering for tea and Bronte novels has not lessened one iota.
Maybe I can delay the inevitable.