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.
While hiking up a steep hill near me yesterday, I was thinking what a long winter it’s been.
But then aren’t they all?
The hill’s a popular one for sledding and has been a busy place this past week after a couple of back to back snow storms.
But Saturday it was empty except for me, the sun, and the trees swaying in the breeze.
It seemed most of the neighborhood children had set aside their sleds, and were busy dusting off their bicycles.
Others were already riding them through the growing puddles in the streets below.
As I stood and faced the sun shining down on the hill, I smelled the musty earth melting below my boots.
And I soon felt March’s blush of warmth on my winter weary face once again.
I even heard a flock of song birds sing a promise of spring as they flew overhead.
Sure, there’s another big snow storm coming here tomorrow, but I know spring is on the way.
How do I know?
Because yesterday I know I saw the light.
Raise your sails, don’t hide.
Time to ride. A peaceful glide.
Spring’s rolled into shore.
Let’s plan our escape.
Isn’t that spring just beyond?
We can always dream.
On a mid February day I might dream of walking a crowded beach in Florida.
Or if I’m smart I can accept my present state.
And today there’s no other place I’d rather be.
With temps this afternoon in the 60s, I strolled along the lake’s peaceful shoreline.
Sure, I found more snow than sand.
Yet the views beyond warmed my soul.
So did the strong rays from the sun beaming down on my pale, winter weary face.
It seems a few of us snow birds always stay put, I was thinking as I listened to one chirping flock right above me.
They were busily checking out the beach’s newest Purple Martin house.
These early birds may have only been looking to ‘get the worm.’
As for me, I’m only looking to find an early spring.
And I believe I may have just found it.
Eight days, and counting,
Dreams become reality.
Winter fades to black.
Today’s a new month.
Is there spring in the air?
If I dig deep in snow,
Will I find a worm there?
Those bird songs seem sweeter,
And filled with great hope.
Do they know a great secret,
That would help us all cope?
Though windows are frosty,
More snow’s on its way.
I’m planting spring seeds.
And dreaming tonight of May.