Last week I was outside, in my boots and winter coat, chipping away at ice. The temperature was just creeping up above freezing, and the sun was trying to shine. The snow had already melted in most of my yard, but the driveway - shaded most of the day by my looming Victorian house - stubbornly clung to its layer of ice. I decided it had to be gone - pronto.
"Why?" my husband asked - "You know it's going to melt in a day or two anyhow, right?"
"Not soon enough!" I replied. "I refuse to step out my back door onto ice for one more day!"
For the first time in my life I could relate to the middle-aged people I'd always laughed at - the ones who frantically shovel their driveway snow out onto a sunny patch of the road.
It was time for Spring to spring, doggone it!
Canadians get impatient when winter outstays its welcome. About 3% of us suffer from SAD, and just want the cold days to end. The rest of us just get mad. I get antsy when the seasons refuse to align themselves with the neat divisions on the calendar. Back in April of 2010 I penned this untitled ode:
On a frosty Friday morning
when the rain has turned to snow
I have brain freeze and I'm foggy
and my wheels are moving slow.
I'm affected by this weather -
Silly? Yes - but it is true.
I've invited in the grey sky
and it's left me feeling blue.
It has been a rough Spring - a late Spring. An almost non-existent Spring. A Spring that is finally making an appearance now that it's half over. Whenever we have snow in April I tell myself it's an anomaly. Apparently I live in denial when it comes to the crazy seasonal temperature fluctuations that exist in my part of the world.
Still, I know it could be worse.
"Welcome to _______ (insert Northern Ontario city/town of your choice here) where we have ten months of winter and two months of bad ski-dooing!"
Spring in Sault Ste. Marie, where I grew up, was all over the board. Some years we were still ice-skating over our March break, and other years we were riding bicycles in Spring jackets. I always knew the so called season of rejuvenation was fickle in Northern Ontario, but as time goes on it seems that she appears in her own time, and on her own terms, wherever I live.
My attitude toward Spring's arrival is about as capricious as she is. Some years I can't wait for Winter to be gone, and other years I'm capable of amazing forbearance. Apparently 2014 found me feeling more upbeat about Spring's arrival than I'd been four years earlier:
Spring Hopes Eternal
The sky was blue, the sun shone bright
though frigid was the day -
I wore my winter coat and boots
but felt Spring anyway.
Old Winter blew tenaciously;
I didn't really care.
Spring wasn't in the bitter wind,
but she was in the air!
I tromped through mud, I heard a bird -
an optimistic sound!
Snow blanketed the frozen soil,
but Spring was all around.
The calendar announcing Spring
was premature - that's clear.
Perhaps Spring isn't quite here yet -
but I can feel her near!
(Sharon Flood Kasenberg, March 23, 2014)
I'm learning that Spring, like anything else, is what we make it. I try not to let the weather upset me too much, but my efforts to remain stoic aren't always successful. Unlike many around me I try not to rush her arrival. This year we got two weeks of warm weather in February, and I was uneasy the whole time. Everywhere around me I saw people getting excited - overly hopeful that winter days were over and warmer days were here to stay. I felt like the lone doomsayer.
"We're going to pay for this in April!" I'd tell people. "Mother Nature has a sick sense of humour."
And (of course) they'd tell me not to be pessimistic. But truly my warnings stemmed from sheer pragmatism, not a desire to burst anyone's bubble. I simply wanted to bring them all down to earth gently before the inevitable April snowstorm sent them all to their beds in misery. Of course we got that storm (rain that turned to hail, that turned to snow, that turned back to rain and froze overnight). Somewhere in there we lost power for thirteen hours and the kids in the area got two consecutive snow days in April - which doesn't happen very darned often, even though Spring messes with us plenty.
But now (knock wood!) the errant winter temperatures are all behind us. Two days ago I put on sandals for the first time and marveled that I'd worn boots just a week earlier. Yesterday I worked in the yard for an hour. The grass is finally looking greener, and before long tulips will be in bloom. Spring comes and goes in a flash, but it sure is pretty while it lasts.
Hey, I've seen snow on Mother's Day...or even Victoria Day. Whatever happens, I'm determined to keep on feeling spring-ish. Gonna try to keep some spring in my step no matter what...
Once Spring finally springs, the heart sings - and I'm not about to stop singing mid-ditty.
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