We've had a long spell of super cold temperatures again this winter. It's normal here in the Canadian prairies. But it has held on now for a long stretch of weeks, and I'm looking for signs of spring. It's like a fever. My father who is 87 often sighs too, "I wish spring would come!."
We know it will. We're just impatient now. So we watch for clues that it's just about here.
Just in case you're not sure if you've ever had it, here is what you watch for.
Like, I check the thermometer in the mornings when I get to the kitchen, and it is a few degrees warmer than the day before.
I go for my walk and note that the air doesn't ring every sound as if it's a crystal bell any more. The air seems softer, moister. The snow under my feet has a more soggy texture instead of the sharp cutting, crunching sound at each step.
Look! That naked tree just dumped a clump of snow off its branch!
Listen; that's a crow! So I scan around and - there! Right behind the store, is a big black bird, the size of a young chicken, and it is cawing as if calling for someone.
Over the next day or two the temperatures come higher, and suddenly one afternoon, they creep above freezing, at 0C!
Now I'm almost giddy on my walk, pulling my feet up out of the sucking, soggy wet snow at each step, and looking around for any bare patch where the sun has melted the snow through to the street or the old grass.
Hark! I'll hear the sounds of dripping. So I look for the corners of houses where the eavestrough ends are, and sure enough, water drips. At night they will be frozen icicles, but the next day they will melt again, and in a day or so, the sound will be like a bubbling brook.
Dad always puts some rain barrels at the bottom of the downspout by our back door, and he measures the progress of spring by whether he got a whole, or half or three-quarter full barrel each day.
During the winter whenever people meet or talk on the phone they discuss the temperatures on their own thermometer. (Not all are tuned quite right). Now it turns to, "I saw two crows today!"
Very proud is the one who can say, "I was in the back pasture today and saw the first clump of crocuses!"
Mind you, by this time most of the snow has melted off our yards, and it is pretty close to Easter.
There are puddles everywhere, and since many people pride themselves on going without boots already, they have to sometimes walk around half a block to skirt a puddle or two or three. But who cares? Spring is here! No more boots! No more bundling up so tight; a light jacket will do
People ask each other at the post office, "So, are you ready to plant your garden yet?" We all know it is too early, but our thoughts are on our gardens, and for the farmers, the crops. By now most have decided what is going into each quarter section of land.
There just is a new attitude in the atmosphere when we have spring. We tell each other that we feel sorry for folks that don't have seasons, and we know we are very special for having toughed-out winter. Now we have a spring in our steps and our voices, because it is time to live again! We can start over despite last year's failures. Even the winter's flu season, the hospital stays, all the sports events at the arena (for those who make that their focus) fades into the background.
The talk on the news of war preparations or protests seems to fall into perspective with other things that are also important. We've had our winter rest; now we want to get out and do things as if we've done nothing over the last 3-6 months. If war must be we'll treat it like a winter; something to endure until spring comes.
Incongruities exist everywhere, but we grin and let them pass. Hey, spring has come! Everybody gets another chance!
You say I sound feverish?
Well, thanks. I wish it upon you too!
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