Maybe I’m being silly for saying this, but I’m very disappointed in this winter’s weather. I look out the window, and I see sunshine, a clear blue sky, and what appears to be a fine spring day. There’s just one problem: it’s not spring yet. Not by my calendar, anyway. Spring is supposed to arrive on or near March 21 in central Illinois. In grade school we had a calendar in our classroom with a picture of rain in March, wind in April, then flowers in May; and that is still how I think it should be.
January, my birth month, is supposed to be full of snow, cold wind, blizzards, sledding, ice skating, etc., but it reached 60 degrees Fahrenheit on my birthday this year. February is supposed to be more of the same—snow, ice and a fierce north wind from Canada—with a slightly warmer day (just above freezing temperatures) thrown in every once in a while.
What I expect
What I see instead
So…you’ll have to forgive me if you’re one of those people who would be happy if it were today’s balmy 50 degrees year ‘round. I cannot agree. Part of the charm of continental weather is change; I enjoy each season’s offerings. I barbecue, swim, sweat and swat mosquitoes in summer; I go on hikes and crunch fallen leaves and sneeze pollen dust in autumn; I complain about the cold, the snow, the five extra minutes it takes to get dressed in the morning, and yet I get bundled up to go sledding with my son in the winter; I wipe mud off my shoes and watch for flowers pushing up to the surface in spring. There’s something really satisfying about having endured the worst and the best of each season, and the changes in the weather mark time for me. This winter seems to have disappeared into thin air.
Maybe I’ll go plant some flowers.
It’s now March 27 and spring is definitely here, or maybe it’s actually summer, hard to tell when it’s been a balmy 70-80 degrees for weeks now. i love the pictures you posted of winter and spring early showing, but aAs much as I too love watching the flowers peek there little buds from the dirt and the collection of leaves in my garden, I prefer the warmth of summer. I love the heat that goes along with the southerly breezes from the gulf and the rays of the sun that comes closer to the earth with each passing day. I’m a summer girl, although born in the cold of winter, January 11 to be exact. In my youth, I too loved bundling to go sledding or ice skating, but that was on the east coast in Maryland, where the winds didn’t blow at 40 mph, reducing the temps from 20 degree F to -20 degree F like it does in east central Illinois. I enjoyed the winters with my children, but I now prefer the summer weather with my grandsons. Weather that invites us to fly kites on the beach, swim in the pool, shoot hoops in the driveway, and to teaching them about the garden. I’m glad the weather has changed to summerish, but I’ll be happier when I know winter won’t show it’s frosty just one last time.