Winter was particularly ruff for my little handsome man, Rex.
Life in the snow belt is often a cruel and slippery slope.
And this year even more so for a 7 pound pup who hails from Alabama.
Rex is typically a trooper, but the towering ice coated snow drifts were already wearing him down by the time a mid April blizzard hit.
My boy grew anxious, chewing on his dog tags in frustration.
But Rex is doing better now.
He has returned to his cozy loveseat on the sun porch where he naps to the cardinals’ spring serenade each day after breakfast.
Though I do catch an open eye on occasion. Rex remains very focused on the one remaining snowdrift next to our shady garage.
My little watch dog wants to make sure it continues to melt.
For that matter, so do I.
My little friend and I were both up early to celebrate the first day of spring.
Sure, I understand the calendars say it arrived a month ago.
But the residents of Minnesota must have missed the memo.
Up here in the ‘bold north’ we’ve been breaking the kind of records that no one ever wants to break.
For example, surviving the coldest April in recorded history.
And also what definitely seemed like the longest winter of my life.
After last weekend’s blizzard our moods had gone south and were almost as heavy as the snow.
Still by midweek on a walk I’d discovered one beacon of hope atop a light post overlooking a soccer field.
It was a bold and beautiful bald eagle sitting on her favorite nest.
Apparently she’d just returned to the state as she knew spring was finally about to arrive.
I knew it as well today as the sun melted the last of the snow while I walked for hours out in the country.
I guess good things really do come to those who wait.
And I’m not going to miss one single thing.
After a back breaking April blizzard last weekend, today we sought rest.
And our place in the sun.
I think we found it.
April blizzards do hurt my gizzard.
And sure can make you blue.
Please make it stop.
I’m over the top!
Could this be spring time flu?
Did I miss spring?
I so rarely forget.
Still with snow on it’s way,
we’re getting more than just wet.
Perhaps I should dream of those springs long ago,
when we never had to worry about frostbite on our toes.
In Minnesota, winter goes on forever.
Or so it seems.
Though the calender’s been telling me it’s spring, my belief system’s been telling me otherwise.
The early morning winds were wicked again this morning.
And so was my mood after seeing possible snow in the forecast going into Easter weekend.
Yet by the afternoon a bright sun was victorious in its battle with the breeze over by the lake.
I suddenly heard honking overhead as a flock of Canadian geese returned from a long winter vacation in Florida.
They were busily checking out the local real estate market in hopes of finding the perfect nest.
As I stood on the dock, I thought how spring break for me this year on a white sandy beach is as likely as all that dirty snow and ice melting overnight.
Yet hearing those geese again was a wake up call.
I’ve lived here long enough to remember ‘don’t stop believing.’
Spring will surely come.
It always does.
So I went right home and put my flip flops back in the trunk.
Right next to my snow shovel.
What’s a little rain?
With some warmth, there’s much to gain.
April fuels my soul.