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Did Punxsutawney Phil see his shadow this morning to let us know that we still have six more weeks of winter, or did he leave his burrow for good?
If he scampered away, I suppose we can celebrate the end of winter. The end of winter – can it be so? I know we have endured such harsh conditions this year that we will all be so happy to know it’s finally over – not! No sledding, no snow angels, no snowmen, no skiing (I wonder what Weston, Mo., is like), no snowboarding, and no beautiful white snowflakes falling from the night sky.
To top it off, there haven’t been any snow days for the kids. What a drag. I know we have all enjoyed lower utility bills, our backs have been spared from shoveling, and the city has saved money, but how can we appreciate spring without winter?
How can anyone really savor hot soup, chili or hot chocolate in 50-degree weather? Can’t we at least have a week of 20-degree weather and snow? I know I’m just asking for it and as soon as it comes I’ll be complaining that I’m freezing to death. I take a vow now that I will not utter a word. I will only revel in the beauty of it, wear layers and finally sip that cup of cocoa with lots of marshmallows on top.
Don’t you think it would be nice to have just a little show of Missouri weather? Just one snow at midnight so we can step outside and listen to the soft sound it makes. So groundhog, I hope you tuck yourself back underground and go to sleep.
I leave you with Wallace Stevens’ poem, “The Snow Man.”
One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;
And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter
Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,
Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place
For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.
Did Punxsutawney Phil see his shadow this morning to let us know that we still have six more weeks of winter, or did he leave his burrow for good?
If he scampered away, I suppose we can celebrate the end of winter. The end of winter – can it be so? I know we have endured such harsh conditions this year that we will all be so happy to know it’s finally over – not! No sledding, no snow angels, no snowmen, no skiing (I wonder what Weston, Mo., is like), no snowboarding, and no beautiful white snowflakes falling from the night sky.
To top it off, there haven’t been any snow days for the kids. What a drag. I know we have all enjoyed lower utility bills, our backs have been spared from shoveling, and the city has saved money, but how can we appreciate spring without winter?
How can anyone really savor hot soup, chili or hot chocolate in 50-degree weather? Can’t we at least have a week of 20-degree weather and snow? I know I’m just asking for it and as soon as it comes I’ll be complaining that I’m freezing to death. I take a vow now that I will not utter a word. I will only revel in the beauty of it, wear layers and finally sip that cup of cocoa with lots of marshmallows on top.
Don’t you think it would be nice to have just a little show of Missouri weather? Just one snow at midnight so we can step outside and listen to the soft sound it makes. So groundhog, I hope you tuck yourself back underground and go to sleep.
I leave you with Wallace Stevens’ poem, “The Snow Man.”
One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;
And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter
Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,
Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place
For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.
