Waiting is difficult at this time of year. We watch the snow and ice linger. We’re cold. The days have grown longer, thank God(!), but the conditions outside prevent many of the activities we associate with spring. Ice has glazed over our favorite hiking trails. Snow piles still cling to the paved streets. Even three hours south of us the first crocuses have burst from the earth while we (at least today) are having yet another snow and sleet storm.
I found myself growing despondent over it all. Spring has always been my favorite season but must we wait until June? I’ve lived in Maine for 14 years and some years are harder than others to do the waiting game. This year seems to be one of them.
Yet what I know to be true is that, come June, everything will burst in a yearly explosion so powerful, it is almost de-stabilizing. People’s gardens seem to flourish overnight. There’s a manic energy to social planning and one can feel the fevered rush to be outside at every moment of every day. Local events pour across our social media pages as we determine how best to enjoy the gift of warmth at long last.
So, as I sit at my desk and look at the snowfall on April 8th, I remind myself of the gift of winter and try to quiet the desperate urge for spring. We are all ready. But when the rocket takes off, carrying us through the heady days of summer, we will likely try in vain to find the quiet we have now.