March 30, 2013. The sun is shining! Really shining!
I don't mean an occasional shot of brightness but real sunshine. Blue skies, the whole works. (And signs of dust in places I'd never have thought to look.)
Robins are everywhere and a pair of killdeer crossed my path as I returned from the post office. Goldfinches are recovering their color. The cardinals remain steady visitors and somebody (well, actually three somebodies) were checking out the apartments in the martin complex.
Friendly folks are even friendlier. Who can not stop to speak on a day such as this?
But "Happy Spring"? Snows in my part of Cassadaga remain deep enough to measure though patches of green (or brown) spread deliciously. There might even be croci beneath the pine which has melted its surroundings.
Mud is easier to navigate but produces its own mess. I'll don my Wellingtons to refill the bird buffet and check outdoors (what a lovely word!) where I can. The driveway remains close to impossible to navigate but I'll count on the sun (and creeping temperatures) to help dry it back into some semblance of the gravel that should be there. Someplace.
What I didn't predict was that this unknown spectacle has completely discombobulated me. I am used to awaking with energy. Today I remain in a daze too powerful to shake. I want only to stare out my window and then go for a walk.
If I look that direction, I see only white. Winter has not disappeared. In fact, the forecast promises its return by Monday. It can't last forever.
It can't can it?
If I'm to accomplish anything (and there is much I'd like to accomplish) I guess I'll have to resort to a list. Maybe I'll lose it and enjoy what's at hand.
(I won't call myself "driven" for I keep control of the steering wheel but neither am I happy just going along for the ride. I want to work. I enjoy working.)
Going out to the bird feeder, I am pleased to see the melting snow has uncovered the suet holder. That can be replenished too. I've missed the downys and hairys. And, yes, those are croci. Fredonia may claim flowering helleborus but mine still hide beneath the snow on the house's north side.
I feel so good being out that I get the shovel. The snow on the deck still peaks at four or five inches. Some is happy to cooperate but there's ice beneath and it isn't ready to relinquish its hold. Perhaps today's sunshine and the forecast Easter rain will do what I couldn't.
The temperature inside skyrockets to 77 (sun has practical benefits too) and I am happy comfortably stripping to just one layer of turtleneck and that lightweight. (I've already experienced the still-punishing wind and know I'll be looking for a second sweater as dusk appears. But how wonderful until then!)
Hey! What's with the cloud? Standing at my kitchen sink, I watch the sun fleeing away across the cornfield. Come back!
And it does.
I am happy the day seems long. I may accomplish little but I revel in that and, more, just being here to appreciate the wonders.
Perhaps year-long winters and eternal gray skies aren't all that bad if the respite brings such deep rejoicing. Yes, life is good.
Tonight I could even count the stars.
Susan Crossett is a Cassadaga resident. Send comments to firstname.lastname@example.org