The weather in Pennsylvania is bizarre, but in many ways has also proved textbook. Within days of starting school, as September began, fall gently swept in, with golden sunsets and breezy walks home from campus in the early evening hours. A bit of snow to kiss us off for Christmas, coaxing us into thinking that Winter might be mild. Then January. Bitter, bitter, January. Very little snow, but “high” temperatures that were anything but, only made worse by a wind that would not let up. Followed by February, which seemed to make up for its brevity by its unrelenting snow, cold, and treachery. March snuck up on us around here with some rain and teasings of continued Winter weeks. Choruses of “oh ye of little faith,” haunted the hanging heads braced for the wind and yet another morning grasping for scarves and gloves. With Spring Break days away (and ironically as frost still gathered) suddenly a break. The sun shone a little brighter (or even that it shone at all seemed a miracle), the temperatures courageously broke above freezing, and then continued to climb. What is that in the air? Hope? (And maybe some pollen for good measure.)
I headed to Boston for Spring Break (more precisely, Northampton, then Cambridge), resigning myself to more northeastern grey. Massachusetts surprised me, however, with perfect spring-like days, ripe for running, wandering, and smiling. Though I had to drive back through plenty of rain (and thankfully avoided the monsoon that hovered around the East Coast), I only gleefully accept that as further evidence that Spring is, indeed, here. Rain, sun, daylight savings, and March Madness. I would inject some snarky comment veiling my hurt that Louisville choked, but my inner schadefreude takes comfort in seeing busted brackets everywhere. That, and Baylor is still in it. Sic ’em.
The First Days of Spring — Noah and the Whale
It’s the first day of spring
And my life is starting over again
The trees grow, the river flows
There’s a hope in every new seed
And every flower that grows upon the earth