Ah, spring
Saturday, March 21, 2009
The memory goes back to spring on the prairie. Don't know if this is one particular year, or a combination of several. Imagine a string of 20 below days stretching over two weeks. This was the high. And the wind would often be fierce enough that there was nowhere in the house that you could ignore its sound. When there was no wind, there was the crystal clarity of the air, and the black and white landscape.
I remember going outside during that time. On those days, your personal world seemed smaller. You would attempt less, reducing your radius of influence, as it were.
Then, the rumor of spring. More often than not, this was something out of the wishful thinking department. Too many days, weeks indoors.
Eventually, there is evidence of ice in the puddles melting, hints of birds, cats from the barn.
As the world thaws, the anticipation is agony.