Over 100 inches of snow fell in Madison, Wisconsin this year! I hear tell that we broke records, both state and national. Last year I think we got about 35 inches. This year Chicago got 60+ inches. A hundred inches is a LOT of snow. Our Naomi begged to go to the park almost every day, saying that we had not been to the park in a LONG time. What was I to tell the girl? We were barricaded indoors. Did I mention that 100 inches of snow is a LOT of snow? It undid me! I began to feel like Noah in the Ark, sending out birds, wondering and waiting to be able to get on with life when the snow melted.
Just last Thursday, there was still a small pile of snow hiding under some trees in Tenney Park. The boys and I were pretty convinced that it would be there until June. We have been watching it slowly melt. Imagine my surprise when I actually saw daffodils by a house last Thursday evening. I was shocked and convinced that a desperate soul had run off to the craft store and stuck them in the ground to herald spring. But then we saw more, almost at every turn. But that little pile of snow was still there. Could spring really be upon us? I had to call my parents and brag about these little “daffy down dillys” waving to me. There was an urgent hope to my call; I felt as if my life would go on, walks to the park and in the woods would happen again. Spring was here and honestly I didn’t think that things could get any better. My mom had sent me a wonderful new spring purse that came in the mail the day before. I was ready. Even another rainy April day could not bring me down.
And then I heard them, as I walked up to my friend’s door, new purse at my side and the awareness of flowers blooming: the incredible chirping voices of the frogs. As the door opened I gasped “spring peepers!” I got a strange look and an apology, “Yes, our children are still up,” said my friend. I could barely contain myself. “No, no outside! The spring peepers! Outside!”
My beloved spoke, and said to me:
“Rise up, my love, my fair one,
And come away.
For lo, the winter is past,
The rain is over and gone.
The flowers appear on the earth;
The time of singing has come,
And the voice of the Peepers
Is heard in our land.
The fig tree puts forth her green figs,
And the vines with the tender grapes
Give a good smell.
Rise up, my love, my fair one,
And come away!”
Oh…I feel this way every winter–as though spring will never come. and the sweet relief when it does. all those sweet little signs. you capture it beautifully-keep going!