Is Winter Over Already?

Today it is a chilly 78 degrees in Southern California. As the rest of the nation is being hammered with cold and snow, I am starring at the thermometer on my patio whining that our cold, 60 degree, weather didn’t last long enough. I’m not saying that I want it to be blizzard like or so icy that I have to lift sheets of ice off my car windows only to skid and slide on that ice as I drive to my destination. However, I do miss the bundle up and curl up thoughts that come from cold weather and snow, and since we don’t have that weather here, I think wanting it to be 60 degrees in the middle of winter isn’t too much to ask.

My favorite poet, Billy Collins writes about what I like best about snow…

Snow Day by Billy Collins
Today we woke up to a revolution of snow,
its white flag waving over everything,
the landscape vanished,
not a single mouse to punctuate the blankness,
and beyond these windows
the government buildings smothered,
schools and libraries buried, the post office lost
under the noiseless drift,
the paths of trains softly blocked,
the world fallen under this falling.
In a while I will put on some boots
and step out like someone walking in water,
and the dog will porpoise through the drifts,
and I will shake a laden branch,
sending a cold shower down on us both.
But for now I am a willing prisoner in this house,
a sympathizer with the anarchic cause of snow.
I will make a pot of tea
and listen to the plastic radio on the counter,
as glad as anyone to hear the news
that the Kiddie Corner School is closed,
the Ding-Dong School, closed,
the All Aboard Children's School, closed,
the Hi-Ho Nursery School, closed,
along with -- some will be delighted to hear --
the Toadstool School, the Little School,
Little Sparrows Nursery School,
Little Stars Pre-School, Peas-and-Carrots Day School,
the Tom Thumb Child Center, all closed,
and -- clap your hands -- the Peanuts Play School.
So this is where the children hide all day,
These are the nests where they letter and draw,
where they put on their bright miniature jackets,
all darting and climbing and sliding,
all but the few girls whispering by the fence.
And now I am listening hard
in the grandiose silence of the snow,
trying to hear what those three girls are plotting,
what riot is afoot,
which small queen is about to be brought down.

GPP Street Team Crusade #36

I don’t miss the mess and frustrations of winter, but I do miss the feeling of a snowy day.