I confess: I waited until this afternoon to take my morning walk. Why? It was very cold this morning according to the thermostat. Yep, I'm a wimp. To my surprise, though, when I took my walk after lunch, it was quite pleasant. There was no wind--a rare thing out here in the country. It was totally calm and felt warmer than it did last week when it was near thirty but windy. I was tempted to take my chair to the top of the hill out back and just sit for awhile basking in the serenity. I swear, you could touch the peacefulness.
To be honest my warm-blooded friends I prefer cold in the winter rather than warm. (No. I'm not warm-blooded. I was a teacher, remember.) Why do I not like warm spells in the middle of winter? Well, one reason is I'm paranoid. I can just imagine a week or two of warmth deceiving my plants into thinking spring has come. Up would come the flowers; out would come the leaves; then, back would come the cold. Disaster! I know, the chance of that happening in December or January or February is practically nil. But still I worry. I mean you can see the depth of my paranoia in that last sentence "practically." I also let the warm day stir my expectations. You see, winter is the time of expectations. I spend the time imagining which of my new bulbs and plants are going to survive their first Ohio winter. What new beauties am I going to get to enjoy next spring--and summer--and fall? And what unexpected surprises am I going to have starting in the spring. (I guess "unexpected surprises" is redundant, eh?)? Anyway, a warm day gets the expectation genes energized way too soon. So, as Frost would say to my plants and gardens if he walked my acres with me: "Goodbye, and keep cold."
Warm, warm, stay away. Come again some April day.
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