After shoveling inches eighty-nine and ninety for this season, I’ve got news for you, Winter. You’re finished. Move along. You thought you were winning in January when it seemed like the month had 120 days (each with snow!) instead of 31. You tried to break our backs and our spirits (and our vehicles and roofs…boy, were you ever busy) with snowfall after snowfall after snowfall. When skiers, sledders and snowmobilers were happy to have so much snow to play in, you sent us gusty winds and temperatures so frigid it was risky for anyone to spend any amount of time outdoors.
The popularity of meteorologists hit an all-time low and they had to wear disguises to go out in public. You coated everything in a damaging layer of ice, tried to freeze-dry all the birds and squirrels, and in your finest moment, stranded 2,053 vehicles on the Interstate outside of Madison for nearly 12 hours in yet another snowstorm.
Your reign of terror is over, Winter. Tomorrow is March and that’s our turf. You can send inches ninety-four and ninety-nine and whatever else you have up your sleeve, but it won’t matter because the sun is higher in the sky now, and we’ll only have to do half the work we did in December to remove it. By now my husband and I can shovel 4 inches of snow from our driveway and sidewalks in 10 minutes blindfolded with one hand tied behind our backs anyway.
Notice that our home improvement stores are now displaying hoses, fertilizers and potting soil instead of shovels and snowblowers. People are calling the local news stations to report seeing their first Robins. And yesterday you could hear the sweet smack of wood hitting leather as the Brewers played their first spring training game.
The birds are starting to sing their spring songs, and next week I’ll be sowing the first of hundreds of flower seeds. You’ll really feel the pressure next weekend, Winter, when we turn the clocks ahead one hour. With longer days we’ll feel more energetic and soon our cabin fever will be replaced by spring fever.
We won’t miss you as we watch you sign off on March 19th. Oh yes, we’re aware that you’ll be in denial and fight with Spring for awhile, but we know she’ll eventually win out. Soon we’ll be splashing in puddles, not sliding on ice; eating juicy burgers from the grill, not casseroles; and drinking lemonade instead of hot cocoa. It’s about time.