Winter doesn’t last forever. Spring, though, comes in fits and starts in New England. Jokes about Fool’s Spring, the Spring of Deception, Third Winter, etc., pop up in social feeds this time of year. Alas, they’re funny because they’re true.
From the Spring of Deception, we have tumbled into Third Winter.
We had glorious weather last week, the “Look Ma, no coat!” day when you can see the collective grin of New Englanders from space (well, you could if we weren’t wearing masks).
It was 73F (22C) on Thursday, and I saw crocuses, so many crocuses, and snow drops. I saw hope.
And then, yesterday, it snowed.
March is a cruel mistress. But winter doesn’t last forever.
Nor will this strange time, I kept reminding myself last week as I marked anniversaries, mostly of different ways of feeling terrified.
Of missing my nephew and niece’s birthday (born the same day, seven years apart). Again.
My parents got their first vaccine dose on Saturday. This will not last forever.
Crocuses come up in the spring.
Sundries for you!
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