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?
Monday morning blues.
With fresh snow they choose to snooze.
Dreaming spring might come.
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.
“Some bunny thinks she’s the Easter bunny,” I told my tiny pup Junie B. this morning.
She responded with a little snort and what looked to be a laugh.
We’d awakened not too bright and early to the sounds of snow plows sailing down our street after yet another snow storm.
Junie B. was thinking we should start our Easter Party today after tearing open a bag of Easter basket goodies.
“What do you think about going to the sunrise Easter service tomorrow morning down at the beach?” I asked her. “It could be a little chilly with that 12 degree low by morning.”
I don’t know if Junie B. understood me.
But I do know for sure that Junie B. growled as she ran back to the crate and quickly slammed the door.
I think our long winter may be getting the best of both of us.
And believe me that’s no April Fool’s joke.
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.
Think we need to see some pink.
That snow is making spirits sink.
And all that ice! It isn’t nice.
So when will it melt? Let’s roll the dice.
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.