A Light at the End of Winter
Old Man Winter may not be asleep just yet, but he’s definitely sporting his Superman pajamas and sipping on a warm glass of milk. The last embers of the fire are smoldering, covers have been turned down, he’s finished reading Goodnight Moon and The Velveteen Rabbit and eaten of the chocolate left on his pillow by housekeeping. Yes, folks, winter is coming to an end here in America’s Armpit and I could not be more excited. It’s been long, harsh, physically and mentally draining. Frigid temperatures, snow, ice, sleet, rain all repeated in a dizzying cycle over the past five months. But the thick gray clouds of winter gloom and misery have broken and for two days consecutively the sun has been shining bright.
Oh, it’s still chilly (31 this morning) and the heater is still on but I can see the light at the end of winter. Really?, you ask. It’s 31 degrees, you say. On my thermometer that’s still freezing. What makes you think winter is over?
My flowers have started to bloom! OK. So not bloom just yet but they are forcing themselves from their winter slumber and stems and leaves are emerging from the ground. It’s only a matter of weeks or even days before I’ll get to enjoy my tulips and ….. well, I know there’s tulips. I’ll have to see what else blooms before definitive identification takes place. You see, my gardening techniques are probably not what one might consider emulatable. Most people map out their flower beds lovingly planting each bulb making sure the spacing is correct and even go so far as to label the plots.
I hail from a different school of gardening. Dig a trench, empty the contents of the bag into the trench, cover the trench with dirt. Move on. No labels, no maps, no weekend consuming labor intensive gardening schemes. Just dig, plant, cover. That way there’s more time to move on to more enjoyable weekend activities–frosty adult beverages and ball games.
Which brings me to the second tell-tale sign that winter is soon to be a thing of the past. Baseball! Sure, they’re wearing sleeves and jackets but they are playing and that means winter is a thing of the past. Am I a fan? No. No, no. I can’t recall the last game I actually watched start to finish. Oh, yeah I can. Two years ago the weekend of May 19, Indians vs. Pirates at Jacob’s Field. Indians won. How do I remember this? My wife and I had taken a trip to Cleveland to see the game and a Pearl Jam Concert. While neither events were alarmingly memorable (my wife would argue that any time with Eddie Vedder regardless of how many other thousands of people are sharing that time is alarmingly memorable) I recall the day because I had quit smoking the day before we left, May 18. Hence, that weekend will forever be entrenched in my memory.
And finally, and this may be the most significant indicator, the ice cream shops are opening back up! Or as my kids would say—
ICE CREAM!!!!!
Until I had moved north of the Mason Dixon I had no idea that an ice cream shop would close for the winter. The concept was completely baffling to me. And utterly disheartening to my kids. Come November 1 the ice cream shops close for the season coinciding with the arrival of winters gray skies. That sad day is but a memory now as shop keepers have shaken the dust from the welcome mats and primed the soft serve machines. Sugar cones are plentiful and the balance of the universe has been restored.
And my winter frown has been turned upside down. Finally!
