The Gentle Promise of Spring

The weather folks called for 1 to 3 inches of snow and they were right.  I put on my waterproof weather boots and winter white coat and headed out to work.   Outside, the wintery mix came down steadily; stinging my face and blurring my vision.  I opened my umbrella and angled it for protection. 

My car was only 3 blocks away but it seemed like a mile.  I wished to move along at my regular pace. Instead, I crept along slippery sidewalks, juggling an angled umbrella, coffee and a heavy bag.  I reached my destination, unburdened my load and started the engine.  The car warmed and I cleared it of the snow.  This was March 20th, the first day of spring; no flowers blooming, no birds chirping and no promise of a hot, carefree summer.  

Some made it into work while others knew that snow on a spring Friday was an omen telling them to stay home.  For those that made it in, snow was the topic of conversation;   Can you believe this weather?  It’s the first day of spring! When will this be over?   In the midst of their disbelief, they rubbed their shoulders as if to relive every cold moment of their lives.  

That evening, I joined a woman on the elevator.  Warily I greeted her and she replied, “I’m so sick and tired of this.”  She was older and slight in frame; wearing the dark, baggy clothing of a rebellious teen.  The rear wall of the elevator held her up as she slumped forward.  I had enough information to know that this was not the time for a silver lining, but still, “Aren’t you glad it’s the weekend?”  And “Isn’t it nice to come home to your own place at the end of the day?”   She snapped back, “No, I’m sick of this snow!”   

I liked that it snowed on the first day of spring.   After an unusually cold winter, it seems as if Mother Nature was taunting me in some way.    But maybe she is saying, you have your calendar and I have mine.  So much of my life is regimented by calendars, schedules and the timing of things.   There is value in organizing and planning life but this is not the whole of life.   There is excitement and wonder when unexpected things show up.  I need a little wonder to breakthrough in spite of all that I’ve contrived. 

By the time I reached work, the snow had ended.  What remained was a clear and bright day.  The sun sat majestic in the sky with her warm penetrating rays. The trees, lined along the streets, were crowned with snow.   Even the wet pavement gleamed.   Instinctively, I reached for my phone and then put it away. No picture could capture what was already etched into my soul.  So, I breathed in the crisp, easy air. I lived in the moment and accepted all that it had to offer, the divine; the final roar and the promise of a gentle spring.

All photos taken with my IPhone after spring had sprung in Maryland.  Enjoy!  Karen