Not wanting to rain on anybody’s spring parade, but…

It’s 69 on my porch.  I sure hope this next predicted 7 days of  mid 60’s (that’s above zero for those in the more extreme northern climes) doesn’t fool the flora into blooming too early like that warm March did last year. The Bradford Pear trees blossomed, leaves ventured forth and the greening of earth began.  Toward the end of the month or early in April we got hit with day after day of below freezing and some snow, all just enough to kill about 88% of what foliage had been fooled into thinking it was spring.  But, we also found out something God put into place that hadn’t been needed since nobody knew when — He had a second set, a backup for just such a time as this.  Only the newly planted perished.  Did you get that?  We re-bloomed.

What an amazing yesterday and today.  We came home from church and had to open the front and back doors to warm up the house!  I guess there’s still enough Minnesota left in me after only 11 years in the Upper South to be appreciative of shirt sleeve weather in the top half of February.  Last week when we had a day like this, we had snow the next day and single digits all week, the extreme change not being a big surprise to a girl from the midwest.  Out there, particularly in the plains west of The River, warm preceded ugly–violent ugly weather on its heels.   FYI, in the midwest there are rivers and there is The River, the Mississippi, a word you learn to spell before you go to school.  Even so, I was impressed when I first traveled southward in ’92 to Atlanta and crossed the Oh-High-Oh.  The sight of the nuclear power plant next to smoke stacks made less of an impression, but being the amateur historian, I sorted that as a 20th century necessity and took in the heady experience of crossing in seconds what cost pioneers’ lives to navigate.

Out on the midwestern plains, upper, mid, and lower (it all looks alike too) when you have a gorgeous day like this in mid winter you should not be playing lawn games and taking pictures of each other in front of sun damaged snow drifts, but you should instead be locking the animals in the barn and heading to the nearest general store for firewood, candles, and food stipends needed to survive horizontal snow and sub zero temps heading your way.  You don’t need a weatherman except to tell you approximately how fast it’s moving.

In the meantime, the sun is shining through the winter smudged windows and the warm outdoor air reminds me of what fresh smells like.  Would that I could take a walk but the heel is not yet healed and Hannah & Charlie’s baby for whom I am slowly building a blanket is anxious to be born.

I trust the Son shines in your heart as He does in mine despite the weather, good or not so good.

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