Saturday, March 13, 2010

The Glaciers Retreat

Every March it happens. After being under snow cover for many weeks, even months, northeast Ohio finally warms up enough so that the snow goes away. And it really does feel like a glacier retreat -- what gets left behind is not all that pretty. The grass, being dormant and untouched by the sun for so long, is yellowish brown. Much of the yard is covered in mud and sticks and decaying leaves. Old bottles and cans are scattered on the tree lawn -- things that fell out of the garbage cans on a snowy morning and were immediately covered over, not to be seen again until.... now. The gardens look like they could never, ever be rehabilitated.

And then, you see this:


The daffodils and crocuses are coming up. The ability for nature to come back after a long winter always amazes me. I love the changing of the seasons.

My friends in the south scoff at the northern climate. They send me stories of short sleeves in January, of baseball in February, and they laugh at the concept of snowblowers, ice dams, and road salt. And yes, sometimes snow can be a hassle. But I wouldn't trade the changing seasons for an unending summer.

Cleveland summers are warm but not hot, sunny but not scorching. It's not the humid swamp of the southeast, or the dry baking heat of the southwest. We have thunderstorms which are dramatic but not dangerous. The windows are open, the breezes fresh, and the grass green (mostly...).

Come fall, the trees explode in color, the weather turns crisp, and the leaves crunch underfoot (and of course, football starts!).

And then the snow starts. I like the snow -- it's still magic as far as I'm concerned. Sitting inside by the fire watching snowflakes fall, and then waking up in the morning to a quiet, muffled world suddenly covered in white... It's a wonderful thing.

Finally spring comes and color returns. The sun comes out, flowers bloom, trees bud and grow leaves, and friends and neighbors step out of their houses.

Sure, each season also has its pains. Clearing snow, raking leaves, cleaning gutters -- all of that takes time. But it's a fair trade in my mind. And the great thing about the seasons is that when you are finally tired of one, it's time to change to the next.

Now, we're not really done with the snow, I understand that. Old Man Winter always has a few tricks up his sleeve, and I'm sure we're in for at least one more blast before spring rolls in for good. But spring is coming, and it's a beautiful sight to see.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

You've become a poet. I couldn't agree with you more, I don't want to live where you don't have the seasons.
Fall without the changing of the colors, spring without the budding & new growth, this would be a dull world.

Anonymous said...

Nice one, Chris. Thanks! ~p

Kitty Cat said...

seriously, DF, you have quite a way with words...
xoxo i DO live where there is not much change, and that is why i travel home so often...

Bill said...

Hey wait a minute! I wrote that. Or I meant to anyway. Nice job Chris!