One has not written anything of substance for weeks. Instead, you’ve just been coping. And…
- The scrapers have all disappeared from the one car to feed the others. The only available tools are a child’s plastic trowel and a piece of wood cut at a fairly effective slant for scraping. It works…
- Mittens or gloves that match? Not much chance, and you aren’t sure it matters anyway.
- Birdsong is heard, occasionally.
- Another office cold is making the rounds and you can’t fight it off as quickly as last time.
- Clocks have sprung ahead allowing some light at the start, and end, of each day’s commuting tunnel.
- If you don’t hear the weather forecast, you assume no “plowable snow.”
- Colleges begin spring breaks that you help fund.
- Mud looks welcome.
- That specter, grief, finds you a little more vulnerable.
I’m sure you could add a few points to this list. The heaviness I see in the shoulders of my train-mates today is offset, I think, by some glimmers of hope under (still) plenty of outerwear. We know tomorrow could hold a bit more snow, but today the temperature should reach the fifties, and that, too, is another, though flirty, promise of spring. This year’s thaw is going to be so sweet!