It’s under a month until the official start of Spring. I have never been more ready for a season to end in my life. I really do love the change of seasons. I love how the year cycle emulates life. But this winter has been dragging on, reminding me only of the end of life, and it’s become a bit depressing. It seems that much around me is depressing, too. I’m in a funk. I’m in a February funk.
The snow has become filthy, disgusting mounds on the edges of every road. Everything is a dull gray. I’m ready for the sun. I’m ready for the gold to come and melt the grays back into colors. It’s like I’m living in Wizard of Oz while still in Kansas. But there is something better to come.
We’re almost there. Soon, the snow will turn into rain. And the rain will wash away this filth and grime and salt. And they days will be longer and I’ll be able to take walks again. And as the temperature lifts, I can only hope my mood will, too. I want to write this Spring. I want to start my book (for real this time). I want to run to the lake and back. I want to read dozens of books. I want to plant flowers.
I want to see little seedlings. I want to see life beginning. I’ve nearly forgotten what green looks like. I love green. Perhaps more than any other color. When I was a kid, I liked blue the best, but I think I’ve grown out of that. There was this one year when April 1st came along and I was sitting outside on the porch and writing about what a perfect day that was. I will never forget that day. And that date is only five weeks away. We can make it. We’re almost there.