Spring is waiting to arrive. I vacillate between contentment and disgust, between giving-myself-a-good-scolding-for-being-whiny-as-I-wait and looking for beauty anyway.
I wore mittens on my walk today, and the forecast this weekend is for dismal rain and temperatures in the low 40s. Yet, there have been a few crocuses in my yard, and daffodils are blooming, now, on the roads.
I have had a few delightful walks with friends in the woods, and I’ve met with some friends about writing projects. On one lovely morning last week, I did both: we talked about our writing projects while we walked, occasionally stopping to listen to each other read from the pages we had stuffed in our pockets.
And, the gulls are back in the fields and at the shore.
Despite the cold, we took a drive and then walked a very short path to see this always-spectacular view of the Sturgeon Bay Canal Light.
Yes, spring is tarrying. ( What a great word, right? And when is the last time any of us have used it?) We are going into our third year here in Door County, and I don’t remember the wait for color and warmth being so hard on me in our first two years.
Soon, I’m sure, I’ll be happily spending all of my days outside. I will have forgotten this feeling of being parched and famished for color and spring.
Having waited long, perhaps I’ll be more grateful when it finally arrives. I’ll count on that, and until then, I’ll look for the graces given in this not-yet spring.