I know that you’re all counting down the days until spring. I have to admit that I am doing that, too, even though I try very hard not to rush my days. I know it sounds sappy for me to say that each and every day is a precious gift—but that is exactly what I believe, and how I feel.
I don’t proselytize, and I certainly haven’t thumped a Bible in years. That’s not my job. My job is to live my life the best way I can, share whatever insights I glean along the way, and create stories that are full of hope and love, and make people feel good.
But my faith is rock solid—and it, too, is a precious gift.
Time moves so quickly now for me, and I think that is universal to us, as human beings, the older we get. Yeah, I’m sick of the cold and the snow and the ice. But I do know that before very long at all, we’ll turn the corner, and warmer weather will be here.
And I know, too, that some of you who’ve had unseasonably cold weather this winter will, also before too long, be right back into the triple digit heat of summer. I’m sure there will be days in July or August when we will all be thinking a little more fondly of the last few months.
I’ve been listening to the hype from all of the news networks as they’ve reported on the storms we’ve had this winter. Their hyperbole just makes me shake my head. News anchors have employed phrases like “snowmageddon”, polar vortex, and of course, the oft used “storm of the decade” and then, “storm of the century”.
The truth is, what we have had these past few months in the northern half of this continent is a good, old fashioned winter. Now, it’s true that those of you in the southern half of the United States did get hit a lot more severely than usual. I know that some of you saw snow and ice in your yards for the first time in years—or maybe, for some of you, for the first time, ever. That was most certainly noteworthy and perhaps deserving of a little bit of hype. I really felt bad for you, because you’re not used to any snow or ice at all, and you had a lot to contend with. Driving on icy roads is a very special skill, one that requires either snow tires, or winter chains. It’s not for the faint of heart, and certainly not for the impatient. My advice to any of you contemplating trying to drive in icy conditions is just one word: don’t.
Let’s hope you’re done with the ice storms. For that matter, let’s hope we all are.
There’re only two more days left of February and then we’ll be in March—hopefully the beginning of the end of winter. All of my life, the rule of thumb for planting the gardens has been to wait until the Victoria Day weekend. That’s in May—this year, May 17 to 19. Usually by then, all danger of frost is past. I’m not counting on anything this year. We have (way back in my younger days when this kind of winter was normal) even seen snow in April and early May. I hope not this year. I want my gardens.
Last fall, we planted a whole bunch of new bulbs. We’re eager to see them bloom, and hopeful that they will. I love flowers, I love their smiling, optimistic faces, and the way they scent the air. I grew up knowing the joy of lily of the valley, narcissus, daffodils, and lilacs blooming sometimes together. There was a special perfume when several of them blossomed at the same time, and the breeze was just right.
Meanwhile, and until then, I’m going to do my best to make the most of each day, and remember that all things come, not to stay, but to pass.