Perkolations: The foreseen glory of a hard-earned summer
Looking at photos of trees in full, leafy green foliage and bugs flying through the air, sun shining, I wonder if the whole thing isn’t mythical. Was that photo really taken around here? C’mon. Really? That’s Photoshopped. Has to be.
Yes, folks, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but spring is a myth. It doesn’t really exist, it never really has and it never will. All your memories of neon green, fresh leaves were simply last night’s dreams. Those tulips and daffodils? You saw them in the grocery store, but they’ve never been known to grow here.
I’ve shied away from all those winter activities I boasted so heartily about. The ones I claimed were the end-all for fun, even though it was so cold out. They were fun, but I’m ready to move on. I’d rather not be so bundled up any longer, whether it’s in winter gear or inside my own home.
I think, though, that I should really just accept the inevitable and strap the skis back on. Spring never really existed, and it’s time to embrace winter for the long haul.
What’s that? Spring’s on its way? Oh, you. Your wishful thinking is adorable.
No, it’s best to just understand that you live in Minnesota now, and this is what the winters are like. Or so I’m told.
But wait! Alas! What is this dismal late-winter attitude that has entered my brain? How have the gray skies infiltrated my gray matter? Winter can’t last forever!
Though, perhaps accepting the death of spring will jinx the late winter and get spring started. Everyone, just take the skis back out of the attic. Unpack your sweaters, long underwear, hats and gloves. As soon as you take them out, spring will arrive so you can put them back again.
Someday, friends, we’re going to look back on this “spring.” It’ll be when we’re in our cars in July, when the air conditioning has just quit, and we’ve got another hour to our destination. When the clouds of mosquitoes, and their incessant whine, are threatening imminent insanity. When we have eaten one too many barbecued hot dogs.
It’ll be then that we look back on the spring snows and think, “Ah, how lovely that was, to be so cool and bug-free.”
Just kidding. We’re going to love every minute; it’s going to be awesome. We’re going to be overly tanned and sweating, digging in our gardens, watching our tomatoes grow. We’re going to be lying on a towel on some lakeshore. Everything is going to be alive and kicking harder than ever, including us.
It’s only a matter of time. It’s got to get here. It just has to. Right?