Officially, it has been Spring for the last eight days. Apparently, no one has informed Old Man Winter of this fact and advised him to move on, because the day before yesterday it snowed... again.
The enjoyment of Winter in the country lost it's charm for me a few weeks ago. Curse you, Currier and Ives!
I saw a lone robin this morning braving the remaining piles of snow in search of breakfast. I suppose any self-respecting earthworm is still in hibernation far down in the soil under the ice and snow. I hope the crocuses I planted last Autumn are, too. There have been more than one day that I wished I could join them both in this suspended slumber,only to awaken when the Earth is once again warm and green.
Those "in-the-know" weather wise have said this has been the coldest and longest Winter on record in years. Personally think there is a deeper message: Nature, the Divine, or Whom or Whatever turns the seasons and sustains Life has sent us forgetful humans a little reminder that we are not in charge of everything. All of our wondrous scientific discoveries and other expressions of our supposedly advanced intelligence pales by comparison when stacked up to the miracles and power of the Cosmos. On the occasions when we are slapped back into line by the Source of Life, we are pulled up by the shorthairs and then somewhat amazed. We are in shock and awe of what Nature in its fullest fury can unleash on us...and furthermore, we are forcibly humbled by the realization that there really is nothing we can do about it other than hang on for the ride on this whirling ball in space we call home.
We are so smugly self-aware of our position in the food chain that we forget we are not the lords and masters of All; actually, we are far from that. We may understand the scientific dynamic of a tornado, but unlike Pecos Bill, we cannot lasso or stop one. We have little control over the rise of stream or river, and we cannot stop the Winter with a date on the Gregorian calendar.
The seasons are no respecter of mankind. We knew this earlier in our history when we were an agrarian culture. Our very existence depended on what we reaped and sowed...and upon what the weather would allow us to do. We had a better relationship with the Earth then; it's a pity we've lost that connection. We were more sure of who we were and our place in the Bigger Plan.
We were more apt to accept our discontent with a lasting Winter with grace. It made the arrival of Spring something that was appreciated than expected...as it should be, because we are owed nothing.
We are not guaranteed Spring; we are not even guaranteed to make it through Winter.
American folksinger John Denver wrote," If I could have one wish on Earth, of all I can conceive, t'would be to see another Spring...and bless the falling leaves."*
*Falling Leaves ( The Refugees),© words and music by John Denver, Cherry Mountain Music, 1988