We are entering into the season of “in-between”. We are officially still in winter, but spring is elbowing its way in. Hard as she tries, spring doesn’t get a good foot hold.
Last week we had a couple of days in the 40s and even into the 50s. While that is celebratory, there is a down side. Mud, mud, a little mud, some sloppy mud, mud puddles, mushy mud, cow poop enhanced mud and just plain mud.
Our snow banks are sagging as fast as Grama’s breasts. Icicles lives are dripping away and the snow on the roofs is taking one last slide.
The sun is glorious and it is amazing how much warmer it is when you step into the sunshine a foot away from the shade. When you turn your face towards the sun it feels like Jesus has just kissed you.
The “in-between” brings new aromas. It’s not the earthy, fresh plowed smell of spring – that is her’s alone. The smell has briskness to it. There is too much snow holding back spring’s smell. I guess you could call it pre-spring aroma. A teaser.
When you walk or drive during this season, you try to find the snow to travel in. Anytime you can drive or plant a foot in the snow, it’s less mud on the back of your pant leg or car bumper.
This is the time of year I fight myself and hold back from car washes. My nice black vehicle is an earthy shade of dirt. I pass clean car after clean car on the highways and byways of life. I avoid eye contact because I know they are sending condemning daggers my way. But, I refuse to throw away the money to have a clean car just for driving through town. It is impossible, unless the good Lord decided to throw me a miracle, to drive down our road without being immersed in mud. And for goodness sake, don’t go to the barn unless you want a mud pack.
This time of year we pray for wind. “Lord, blow off the water like a mother blows on a spoon of too hot soup for her child.” A good day of wind knocks the legs out from under the mud.
This is just another irritant we Michiganders live through. A patient bunch we are. We have lived through many “in-between” seasons to know that we could have a “suddenly”. Without warning or expectation we will wake up to the birds singing, the sun shining and the mud a distant memory.
This is the time of year to take a look at the summer pictures of last year. It’s like a jump start to keep your battery of optimism strong.
I would not trade a place of continuous weather for the ups and downs of Michigan for anything. How else would we ever learn to be grateful and appreciative if not for the not so pleasantries that are followed by sheer delights?
