(I hear you cheering. I know I'm not alone.)
I'm tired of leaving early to clean off the car, worrying about digging myself out of the parking lot at the train station, and layers of clothes. I'm sick of "Oh nuts, I left my mitts drying at work." and "How can I get to work with my hair still looking somewhat reasonable?" I'm sick of the sheer energy it takes to cope with the weather every day.
I'm sick of white or grey/brown.
This time of year, I long for growing things. For buds, for pansies, for cilia and daffodils, the early risers of spring.
I long for light. It is getting lighter in the mornings, and daylight savings time is just a few weeks away, but I long for the extravagant days when the sun yawns at 9:00 and finally heads to bed just before 10:00. I long for the days when it doesn't feel like bedtime when I walk in the door.
I'm being crabby, I know. But don't we all get a little crabby this time of year? (Okay, I know you are out there, you skiers and other winter lovers. I'm ignoring you.)
The other night, I had to walk our puppy on a night when it had already been precipitating for over 24 hours. Rain, snow, rain/snow mix. When I was walking, it was back to snow, with thick layers of slush on the ground. I was ready to shake my fist at the sky and yell, "Enough already!"
Two things happened.
Bailey, blissfully oblivious to my crabbiness, was having a blast. The snow was higher than his belly in places, and he hopped like a bunny, coming up with his nose covered in snow and looking indignant. I had to laugh.
I looked around me. The trees were covered with snow as trees have been for centuries in this kind of storm. I was struck again with the beauty of it.
Beauty in the midst of crappiness.
I need to look for it. Most days bring some crappiness. That's how life is.
Look for the beauty, Ann. And be thankful.