It is nice that it is warm enough for snow to start melting. Because there are some pretty large piles of snow out there:
But as welcome as this warmth, and the disappearance of the snow is, it’s not yet spring. The air doesn’t smell like spring. And yes, spring has a smell, just as autumn does, just as summer does, just as winter does.
I will take warm winter days over cold ones. But *sigh* it is still winter.
Winter has finally arrived. I grew up, more or less, in Southern California. For all I never liked about the Los Angeles metropolitan area (mostly people), I got used to the notion of two seasons — dry and not so dry. (San Francisco does the two season thing too, with nicer people.) That’s an arrangement I grew to like, and all this time out East and in the Midwest has exposed me to winters but has not gotten me used to them. I may never be used to winters. No, that’s not right, I don’t want to get used to winter. Ever. I want to go back to the tropics, where it’s hot and bright and green. Or back to the desert, where it’s hot and bright and not very green. But someplace hot and bright. Right now, I feel like I’m studying at the Lutheran School of Theology in Siberia.
Here’s a winning formula: Lutheran seminary + beach + Costa Rica. It is an idea whose time has definitely come.