Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Spring.

Cotton Mather wrote that "a New England Winter does not want for Cold." Cotton Mather was often wrong (I should win some kind of understatement award for that sentence) but on the subject of New England winters, he pretty much had it. Until this year. Oh, it was cold. It was unpleasant; it required gloves and scarves. But it wasn't exactly New England Winter cold. And then - if it's not too soon to say it - it was gone. Replaced with this all too sudden, catch you before you've had time to get your toes done, almost-warm, early Spring. I think I've said before here (and anywhere, to anyone who would listen to me) that I roundly dislike Spring. Wet, damp, chilled, all melting dirty snow-lumps and confusion about coats. It goes on too long too, usually, sometimes extending well into June as if brazenly stealing from Summer's allotted number of hot days. But this Spring, I have hope for. Maybe it will be warmer and shorter than usual, as odd as this Winter has been. Maybe, like this Winter, it will be gone before I've gotten finished complaining about it. Let's hope.

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