Monday was the day I've been dreaming about since mid January. The temperature crept into the 50s, snow and ice melted into rivers and ponds and I opened every window in the house. They stayed open for only 10 minutes, but it was wonderful, it made me feel hopeful, to have the fresh air breezing through the house. The kids rode their bikes through the puddles and mud without hat or mittens and jackets unzipped. Hello, Spring! I wanted to call. But I knew better.
Last night it snowed. And this is how Winter and Spring will dance through the next weeks (and hopefully not months) - widows open one day, winter wonderland the next.
I have actually enjoyed the dark days of winter, snug in our house and snow falling deep. This year particularly I have so loved watching Audrey and Colton together. Their imaginations have blossomed in the hours of uninterrupted play. (Of course, there have been rough days, but most of the time I remember that this is a season and will not last forever.)
But in March and April it feels like winter will never end. The days grow longer and Easter approaches and I wait daily to see blossoming tulips, greenery dressing all the trees, to turn my face toward the sun's warmth. And wait and wait. I have expectations for Spring and am disappointed to the point of despair when it does not unfold as I think it should. This year I don't want to fall so low. This year I will (try to) accept the season as it is. Today I will be thankful for the snow.