Thursday, February 24, 2011

Think Spring and you get Snow

Earlier last week I decided to change my blog design to reflect something a little more "spring-like". I was ready for a change, and I liked the bright green color, it reminded me of the fresh new growth we see each spring in Michigan after such a long, dreary winter. Things were looking up around here, as the temperatures were rising, the snow had melted, and brave souls were actually spotted with their car windows down, even if the outside temperature was a chilly 48 degrees. But hey, when you've been sprinting from your home to your car to your destination in sub-zero temperatures for weeks, 48 feels downright tropical.

Of course, as usually happens, once all of the snow melted, we received another "blessing" of over 9 more inches of the white fluff. Yippee. Hip, hip, hooray!

In the off chance you hadn't noticed, I'm not a big fan of winter. Being a lifelong Michigan resident, I am well accustomed to the four seasons, and do believe that I would truly miss them if I lived in another climate. But if you ask me, Michigan has got it all wrong. I'll be happy to explain what I mean by this as soon as I get an ice pack for my backside, which will no doubt get a severe kicking from all of you Michigan-Winter lovers.

Here's my beef with Michigan winters. They are just too stinking long.

Now I know I'm not alone in my lamenting of this fact, but let's review some simple facts about the Michigan seasons, beginning with spring.

Now, spring in Michigan begins when the dreaded winter decides to end, and since there apparently exists no human who seems to be able to predict exactly when this will occur, we call on a very sophisticated creature to do the predicting for us. That's right, the ground hog. Evidently, if the poor little bugger survives the most brutal stretch of winter and the early February cold long enough to emerge from his underground lair and sees his shadow, we're in big, big trouble. Six more long, cold, miserable weeks of winter. The problem with this highly scientific method is this: even if Mr Groundhog doesn't see his shadow, we still have to sludge and trudge through six more weeks of wondrous winter weather. Yet we hold this time-honored tradition each year as if it is ground-breaking science. Quite perplexing.

However, once spring does arrive, it is, in a word, breathtaking. After such a long winter, everyone is eager to shed their winter coats (and I'm not even referring to our furry canine friends), roll down their windows, and actually make eye contact with one another and smile once more. Spring is a time of warm, musty earthy scents, soft newborn green growth everywhere you look, and the sun's warmth working it's magic on our cold, tired, achy bodies. Spring in Michigan is lovely. Spring in Michigan usually lasts around 3 months and then the gentle warmth leads to....

Summer! Summers in Michigan can be pleasant, can be cool, can be rainy, can be downright brutally hot and humid, can be 75 degrees and absolutely perfect. But one thing I've noticed about summer's in Michigan; they're too short. Way too short. Ridiculously short. (There's that word again!) If I were president, I would swap Michigan summers with Michigan winter's. Now there's a thought. Sort of sounded like a high school campaign promise for President of Student Council. But seriously folks, if it were within my powers, I'd switch the length of those two seasons in a heartbeat.

My husband the thinker is quick to point out that this would be disastrous, and of course he is right. All of the snow we get in these long, ridiculously cold winters serves a very useful purpose. Well, that is, once it melts. Yep, you guessed it; the melted snow keeps our streams, rivers, and lake levels where we want them, and this is, indeed a good thing. (Thanks to Martha Stewart for coining that tired, cliche phrase). So, because of the usefulness of the long winters, that takes the wind out of my sails, so to speak, for the sale of this notion of season swapping. Ah well, it is fun to dream I suppose.

Which brings us to the last season, Fall. Next to winter, I like fall least, but it is an odd dislike, because I feel somewhat ambivalent about this season.

On the one hand, I am absolutely devastated when that first chilly day arrives, the nights are too cool without a sweatshirt, and those once-brilliant green leaves have betrayed their summer color for something much more spectacular to come. I grieve the loss of the warmth of the sun on my bare skin, the freedom to roam without the hindrance of extra heavy clothing, etc.
But on the other hand, I do love the beauty of the changing leaves, with some of the maple trees absolutely breathtaking in their displays of fiery reds. I also love the end of fall and the heady smell of burning leaves (apologies to my environmentalist friends....if you need to go fetch a brown paper bag right now to help with your hyperventilating, I'll wait).....................................
Okay, feeling better? Good. Let's see, what else do I enjoy about fall? Oh yes, the apple orchard, and plucking a ripe juicy apple right off the tree, taking a crisp bite and having the sticky apple juice run down my chin. And don't even get me started on what happens to me when they take an apple, jam a stick down the middle and dip it into that heavenly concoction of hot, melted caramel. Jeez, I'm drooling more than our Labrador.

So thus ends my diatribe on the Michigan winters and the seasons that precede/follow. I would love to be a "snowbird" who can afford to fly away after Christmas to somewhere tropical. Then, when it is no longer dangerous to walk outside in Michigan without full Antarctica gear, I'd travel back to my hometown, and spend my days by the lake.

Living this life of leisure, perhaps I could finally discover why on earth we rely on a rodent to forecast our weather.

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