I took this picture last week--Saturday, to be precise. It's now, what, Tuesday. And this view looks quite different. No "after" photo, sorry.
Yesterday afternoon I was on this beach clearing brush. Only two small ice floes drifted, disconsolate, near near the shore. Everything else winter-esque in this picture has disappeared. All in a few days.
I've been waiting for spring to arrive, and I guess even I would have to say that this is it. Yesterday I was able to be outside for a couple of hours doing what is basically glorified yardwork (but oh, what a yard). I was still wearing a long-sleeved cotton tee, a long-sleeved flannel shirt, and a hooded sweatshirt lined in waffly thermal underwear fabric. I wore work gloves. I was working pretty steadily for the time I was out there. Still, my ears and the tip of my nose were cold. But yes, folks, this is spring.
I've been waiting for spring since oh, about March. Some internal clocks are easier to re-set than others, and crocus in March is normal in the southern U.S. So I've been watching every day, looking to see evidence of warmer weather. But spring incrementaled in when I wasn't watching.
The same thing happens when I monitor sunrise time. I'm not a morning person, so I depend on the sun to help me get moving in the morning. At midwinter, sunrise is about 9 a.m.--not much help if I have a full day. After the midwinter solstice, I anxiously watch to see if I can tell that the sun is rising earlier. Daylight Saving Time messes with that, and did so even earlier than usual this year, and that's about the time I've given up hoping to feel a difference.
But at some point recently, I noticed that the sun was coming up about 7:30. Not only was it rising earlier, it's rising farther north along the horizon. Then this morning, it was shining directly into my eyes before 7 a.m., making the bedroom extremely warm and bright. The sun, too, has incrementaled on me.
No wonder spring is exciting for all the birds and mammals that hang around here. Something is different every day, now--the ponds in the driveway are noticeably smaller after just one semi-sunny afternoon. Soon, the pine trees will be putting out their candles.
I do love this place at every time of year. But I am ready for some spring. And even though we may still see snow (it snowed on May 13 last year), I'm finally able to see it as an aberration for this time of year, not as a given. By increments, I'm learning to trust the sun. This year, at least.
