Maybe one of the gifts of age is the experience of Kansas weather. Within the last week we've seen nearly a ninety-degree shift in temperature. The alluring song of "early Spring" catches the ears of even the most stalwart...yes, over the past couple of days I, too, ran, in running shorts, my "nice weather" route with Chloe (whose fur is still exceptionally thick!) and brushed away in my mind the only frequent cool gusts of the wind blowing over the lingering ice on the lake.
I know my students are hearing the song, and they're pulled completely off course. Young men with tank tops and flip-flops hovering under last year's saggy shorts. Young women, hoping to jump start their tans, splayed out on the benches outside the student union, their dance shorts and rolled-up t-shirts looking far too fragile with the dust-covered piles of leftover snow hidden by the sun's glare.
Do we collapse so easily to such a sweet song whose singer is yet weeks away? Spring is not even selling tickets yet. I know what's going to happen, and we're all guilty of tempting the Winter fates. February is an enigmatic month. It's the month where we feel winter should just leave and spring should jubilantly show up (ah, some of the trees are beginning to show their buds!) with all of its grace and greenery.
But I've gained wisdom. I know what the Farmer's Almanac is forecasting about more snow. I'm not rearranging my closet and filling it with warm-weather clothes just yet. There's a blue sheen to the sunsets still...we need no groundhog in this state to remind us to keep our coats handy!
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