It happens every year. A day of above-average temperatures in the final weeks of winter. A taste, a tease, and a glimmer of hope that spring will eventually warm us again. Today was the day. Sixty-two degrees on February 17th. Enough warmth to forget coats, forget hats, and forget the piles of grading I have to do.
I do love winter. I love the months of hibernation, the cozy nights pretending to be 'snowed in' without a place to go in the world. The fires, the comfort food, and the family time. I also love winter for the fact that it makes us Iowans appreciate spring that much more. It really is a fresh start, a new beginning, a sort of rebirth each year. And what's hibernation without the escape?
We're like bears. I swear I've seen our neighbors twice since the first snow fell in November. And today, the entire neighborhood was out. Two old men sitting on their front steps, yelling to their neighbor from across the street:
"Isn't this awesome?"
Kids running up and down the streets, splashing in the melted remains of snow, wearing shorts, t-shirts, and rosy red cheeks. Finding treasures buried months ago, having the time of their lives sweeping the sidewalks for their dads, and begging their moms to stay out just...
"Five minutes longer?"
We took Cruz on a walk. We laughed at how much bigger the neighborhood kids had gotten since last fall. We grilled chicken breasts, contemplated getting ice cream, and I finally took my garland off my porch rail. And just like every other year, I attempted to convince myself that I don't need to hang Christmas decor outside next year...
Today was a good day. Even though I saw twenties in the seven-day forecast for next week, this day was the glimpse of good things to come. The fresh air was good for the soul. And soon, that thick, spongy ground will thaw and dry and be the perfect place for a blanket, a glass of ice tea, and a summer afternoon soaking up my baby...
It's a comin'...
Spring is in the air!
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