In order to honor one of my favorite dates of the calendar year (3/4, coming this week), it matters to mention that during today’s morning walk with my dog, the birds were chatting loudly amongst themselves. The eight degrees ambient temperature didn’t feel as dire as it did a month ago. The snowpack had a resigned feel to it underfoot, and the falling snowflakes had a lazy, dreamy quality.
Yesterday, it was sunny. Still cold, but heavenly to note the thermometer rising into the twenties for the first time in many days.
That sun! I could sense that the dull deadness of winter’s orb is passing away. For the first time in months, it offered up a tease of warmth.
Gone is the absolute silence of deep winter, the relentless sense of permanent cold. Daylight lingers for several more minutes every day. In just three weeks it will be the equinox, and we will truly be edging away from this season.
I won’t complain when I can put away the heavy coats, the scarves, the mittens and gloves, the winter boots. I love to march forth into the time of year when layering up to leave the house is no longer a fullblown project.
These things said, and although I celebrate the coming spring, I do not want to wish away the winter. It reminds me of my strength, my endurance, my capacity for managing a climate that is, if nothing else, challenging.
And yet… this morning the birds were chatting, the day was lighter, the emergence of a new season was right there, just out of sight, poised to arrive.
What’s your favorite time of year?