I want blossoms, not bluster.
The weather here in northern Illinois is, excuse my crass lack of eloquent description, bullshit.
It’s 19 degrees as I write this in the afternoon. According to the talking heads on the morning news, the wind chill this morning made it feel like 4 degrees below — below! — zero (it’s much worse at my parents house in Wadena, Minn. — the air temperature was below zero by itself this morning, forget how much colder the wind made it feel).
It’s the first day of spring! I just want to grab Mother Nature by her fur-lined lapel and shake some sense into her! Where the heck is that glorious spring weather we experienced last year at this time (my Beloved was mowing the lawn a year ago!)? Is this payback?
The atrocious weather sent me seeking a prayer, and I found this one titled, “Spring” in “Graces: Prayers & Poems for Everyday Meals and Special Occasions” by June Cotner:
We give you everlasting thanks, O God,
For the marvels of your great creation.
As the flowers blossom and bloom around us
We lift our hearts in joy and celebration.
Nice prayer? Indeed. Beautiful. But I think we need something more along the lines of a rain dance right now. I am not Native American, but here’s how a Germanic Swede born in Minnesota might perform a “spring dance”:
- Wear orange, the color of the sun. But not so much as to call attention to oneself. An orange hair thingy is appropriate; an orange coat would be going too far. Face paint might include green eyeshadow or bronzer (again, we Minnesotans think Lady Gaga is a little “out there”).
- Stand, shifting weight from one leg to the other. Weave hands back and forth like a snake charmer as if to impose one’s will on another.
- Hum the tune from Bob Dylan’s “Blowing in the Wind or “The Times They Are a-Changin'” (Dylan was born in Duluth, Minn., dontcha know). Finish dance with a fist pump and bark, “You betcha!”
If that doesn’t scare away winter, I don’t know what will.