I have been reading on blogs, in newspapers, in magazines, just all over, really, about hills turning green and flowers budding and all the signs of spring. Crocuses breaking through the snow. Birds returning.
When I lived in Fairbanks , the first sign of spring was the opening of the local Dairy Queen. It was closed all winter, as the owner lived Outside when it was cold in Alaska, and when he returned for the summer, he opened it. Snow still on the ground, coats and boots still being worn, but Dairy Queen open, and we all stopped by and sat on the cold outdoor benches and ate ice cream. After a winter when the temperature went down to -50, sitting outdoors with snow still on the ground and eating ice cream seemed sane to us.
Yesterday, I looked down and realized I had just tracked mud onto the kitchen floor! The first
sigh sign of spring, a filthy floor. Our record snowfall is melting! Today I didn't need my winter boots! Wearing shoes after months of boots feels so free (and, perhaps it is this need to get out of my boots that caused me to focus on my happy, hippy feet the other day.) Is it, I wonder, any more sane to be happy at the sight of a muddy floor than to sit outdoors in the snow and eat ice cream?
1 comment:
It's the muddy time of year: the time of year when I'm glad not to have a dog.
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