As the Snow Flies

March 10, 2023

“The beauty of being warm,” I once wrote in a class assignment, “is that at some point beforehand you were cold.” We were in the midst of a frigid Wisconsin winter. I wanted to capture the idea that experiencing bad weather makes taking refuge in a warm house that much sweeter.

This is also true on a larger scale. Winters are tough for me, both meteorologically and emotionally. I always look forward to taking refuge in the spring. And while spring is gorgeous in itself, some of its beauty lies in acknowledging the four (or five, or six) cold months that came before.

I don’t hate winter, but I’m never sad to see it go. The plastic on my windows comes off earlier than might be practical. I even try to help the process along, kicking snowdrifts apart and wearing spring jackets in hopes the universe will take the hint.

I recently realized that my feelings about winter and spring apply to another kind of “cold.” When I get sick, I can’t stop imagining how amazing I’ll feel when it’s over. I try to speed things up by doing everything I would normally do. Eventually, though, the symptoms rear their head and I have no choice but to be patient – just like when another snowstorm hits.

After the first few spring days, I tend to take the new normal for granted. Yes, I can go out for a walk, but that’s not enough to get me to do it. Maybe warm weather is best appreciated by just existing in it. When I do choose to walk, I can notice the sweetness of not having to bundle up (and getting to leave the Kleenex box at home). This adds a whole new dimension of beauty.