It Must be Spring…

It Must be SpringIt must be spring in the Midwest.

One day we’re hanging laundry outside in short sleeves with the windows open.

The daffodils are poking out of the ground and the rhubarb is up.

The next day there’s that nasty white stuff in the forecast.

You know the stuff I mean – it starts with an s and rhymes with “at least we won’t have to mow!”

It’s the word that brings great excitement and celebration in the fall – but feels like a slap in the face at the end of March.

I really can’t complain though – our neighbors to the north have had it much, much worse. One friend in Minnesota said she has never been so excited to see dead grass because it meant the snow was finally gone.

She spoke to soon – they had another 7 inches overnight.

The only good thing about a spring snow is that it won’t last long.

The flowers know it – they’re blooming anyway.

The robins know it – they keep building their nests.

Even Wal-Mart knows it – they have their swimsuits and flip flops on display!

I guess we all know how very fickle March can be!

Today the furnace is running – but soon the windows will be open again.

We’ll be able to pack the winter coats and stocking caps away and the kids will be digging out their t-shirts and sunscreen!

Meanwhile, we’ll just brush the snow off the Easter Bunny and be thankful that April is only a week away!

Photo by Anne Burgess

Well, Maybe Not

Snow

Okay, I lied.

It wasn’t intentional. I told you all that spring had finally arrived in the country.

Then it snowed. Again. And again.

Truthfully, it felt like spring had arrived for several days. I took walks with no jacket. We hung laundry on the line. I listened to the birds singing.

Then a cold front came through. The wind picked up. The temperature dropped and winter returned.

Then it snowed – again.

Family living further north had even more snow – up to 2 feet!

We laid aside the spring jackets and short sleeves as we pulled out the parkas and the ski gloves, again.

It reminds me of this Robert Frost poem…

The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You’re one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak,
A cloud comes over the sunlit arch,
A wind comes off a frozen peak,
And you’re two months back in the middle of March.

Robert Frost (1874–1963)
Two Tramps in Mud Time (1936)

(Photo by wahp1)