I woke this morning to the dripping rhythm of the melting snow, running down the gutters to the downspouts. A myriad of birds excitedly chattered with one another, chickadees announcing spring to anyone who would listen. I stretched in the early dawn, a smile finding its way to my face.
We have suffered through a long arduous winter, haven’t we? Apart from several cold snaps (that at least offered us brilliant blue skies and sun, coupled with breathtaking cold), it snowed a lot. Like a LOT. It seems as though every snowstorm that rudely hit us after the middle of February slowly whittled away at everyone’s resolve to bear through this. Half-hearted smiles with idle small talk about yet another snowy day here in the Koots. Will it ever end, we ponder? Yes yes, the skiing has indeed been amazing. But the grey dirty banks of snow and the muted browns and greens of winter have worn thin. Its ugliness grinds down on moods, making normally cheerful folks a bit churlish. It offers up tired jokes, repeated daily of how we’d like to punch snowmen in the face.
But today, that sun shone down, it gifted the air with a tinge of warmth. The gardens reveal brave nubs of green, those hardy daffodils and snowdrops willing to risk it all as if to remind us that spring will indeed come back to us. The sun will rise higher every day, casting a different angle of light into our homes. The snow will recede, offering patches of grass to thatch and rake.
It’s on its way, my friends. Those long walks after dinner with the sunlight guiding our way, hearing robins bossing each other around, racing to build nests in the apple tree. Windows flung wide open, airing out the stale sadness of such a seemingly endless winter. That snap and pop of bits of gravel under bike tires, the first haze of brilliant green sprinkled about on bare branches.
The awakening of what feels like an endless slumber. We shake out the cobwebs and stop making soup. Instead we crave salads and fruit and clean light dinners. Boots can be packed away and those toes that have hidden from us can make an appearance, bravely put in sandals and light shoes, regardless if it’s still a wee bit chilly outside.
Rebirth. Yawning and stretching, we stumble bleary-eyed into the sun, welcoming its warmth of return.
Soon. So very soon, spring will come back to us.