Spring arrived at 12:47 PM, this past Thursday.
I was outside standing directly in the apex of the little pyramid design I had built into the center of our back deck for occasions just like this. It helps me focus and better absorb the energy passing down from the Universe.
It also makes it easier for the returning, northbound Geese to target me, which I also take as a sign of good fortune…at least for the geese.
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And, make of it what you will, I actually did feel a change at just the precise moment when our days and nights perfectly balanced into a pair of equal parts.
A sense of renewal and rebirth overtook me as the warm sun cut through the breeze and spread across my upturned face…along with the goose poop dripping off my ear.
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Hey, it’s nature people…nobody said it was tidy.
And it was spring…finally…hopeful, emergent spring, arrived at last to replace a season that, let’s face it, no one really has a use for after the first of the year.
Yet, even so, it sticks around for nearly another 3 months, oblivious to our disdain, not to mention our datdain.
So when spring does arrive, one expects winter to take the hint and for all we care, let the door hit him in the—you know what—on the way out.
Except when I walked back inside to clean off the goose poop, who do I find sitting on the couch, munching on a left over corned beef sandwich—on white, no less…with mayo—but winter…stubborn, insolent winter…watching basketball.
Apparently, winter’s a big fan.
Who knew?
Shocked, I threw up my hands and said, “Winter…what the hell? Spring just arrived and you’re sitting here watching basketball?”
Winter turned and shot me one of its patented, coldest stares, “It's the NCAA...duhhh…and if spring’s already on the job, why shouldn’t I enjoy the tournament. Besides, I’ve got Dayton leading OSU at the half.”
Which, I understood.
Still, I looked right into winter’s dark soulless eyes and said, “With or without the points?”
“Of course, with the points,” winter replied, “You think I’m stupid…?”
“So you’ll be here for a while, then?”
“What’s it to you…what’s it to anybody for that matter? Will you look at that call…that’s a charge, ref…anybody can see that’s a charge!”
“What’s it to me? What’s it to anybody? We’re all sick of you…you with your freezing arctic vortexes, icy winds and endless snow storms…and anyone could see that was a block…he never had his feet set.”
Winter, dead eyes still fixed on the game, said, “Look....
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