spring forward

I spent much of winter denying it - single digit temperatures compared to 40 or 50 degrees; snow compared to sunshine; rain and slush and shoveling and cold and wet compared to... .  A month or so ago, a coworker was attempting to explain to me the beauty that is spring in Massachusetts.  She talked about the first really warm and sunny day; how people are out in shorts and t-shirts even though it's really only March and really only, maybe, 60 degrees.  She told me about how happy and kind and considerate people are.  My response was something like, "Yah, that sounds wonderful... except every day in Texas is like that and people are always happy and kind."

But now, I actually feel it.  There is something very impressive... something surprising... something magical and powerful and overwhelming about the coming of spring up here.  The truth is that none of it happens overnight.  The snow melts gradually.  The temperature climbs slowly higher and higher.  But seemingly, one morning, I woke up and the sun had returned.  The grass was visible.  I saw small shoots of green coming up in gardens around town.  Indeed, I saw small shoots of green coming up in the garden outside my front door.  And I wear no jacket on the walk to work, and I take Roswell out in only a sweatshirt, and I officially moved my winter 'gear' into the bottom (usually untouched) drawer of my closet.  It is spring.  And I am so happy that it has come.