For the first time in months, there’s far more water than ice. It’s comfortable to go outside without a coat, at least for a while. The sun isn’t just bright; it’s warm. I can open the windows and let the (I know, now) stale winter air out and the sweet, sweet outside air in.
Today was just gorgeous. Perfect blue sky, perfect warm sun, and everything melting, melting, melting. We splashed in puddles. We drove with the windows open.
There’ll be colder days again before we’re through, I’m sure. There might even be more snow. But I can smell spring from here. The front porch and back yard will be ours—really ours—again, and the house will feel three times bigger. Ingrid and I will be able to dig in the garden while Iris naps. Green things, I’m told, will start busting out all over the place.
All day I’ve been surprising myself with how happy and relieved I feel. It’s as if every half hour or so I wake up from a nap, blink a few times, and discover again that the whole world is made of chocolate.
If you live somewhere more temperate, this will seem silly; you had this day ages ago. But if you’re in, say, Duluth or Winnipeg or Fairbanks, take heart. It’s coming. It really, really is.