Here in the Upper Midwest, there is a common pastime among all the residents: looking forward to summer. And every year, like clockwork, or close to it, winter is over. Sometimes it is sloppy, sometimes abrupt, and always a surprise. Upon waking, you walk outside to check the weather and – there is birdsong! There is a feeling in the air that is unmistakable – a soft sigh, less of an edge, and a fresh aroma*. It is so subtle, and yet so magical. Every single time.
When I was growing up in the desert that is Los Angeles, I dreamed that I could one day move to the Midwest, a favorite vacation destination where my mom’s family lived. Snow! Rain storms! Fireflies! My world consisted of hot, dry, and often smoggy days, endless summer temperatures, and no chance to wear a coat or boots, no opportunities to play in the woods, nothing green anywhere unless you included the foliage around the yard or next to the freeway that was continuously dusty and forlorn.
I got my wish when I was 41 – not a moment too soon. Now, when it is officially summer, I can no longer remember what it was like to drive on fresh snow and ice, what the landscape looked like under all that snow and ice, and how annoying it got to be when you had to gather SO MANY THINGS just to leave the house! Hat, gloves, scarf, boots, coat, glasses, car keys, and possibly a change of footwear for when you arrive at your journey’s end.
Next winter I will look back at these images to remember what it was like, for by then it will again be cold, leafless, and covered in snow and ice. The constant reminder will be the bright red cardinal who never leaves, and appears at our window to remind us of the wonder that awaits us when the cold weather finally retreats.
In February, I will browse through the seed catalogs and place my order for the most beautiful, the brightest, and the tallest flowers, to be planted in the garden by my husband, the gardener. I will pick bouquets and at the end of the summer, I will paint a portrait of my results.
*the locals will tell you that the aroma is that of defrosted dog poo, but your interpretation may vary.
hey
lovely blog hope all is well
happy blogging.
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Thank you for the reminder to enjoy each beautiful summer day, especially those unblemished by high humidity and forest fire smoke. In MN, the topic of weather is always a handy ice breaker. = )
Yes, my dear. We are NOT in Kansas anymore. Thank goodness!!