Saturday came with a deluge of rain, which seemed to pound on our window air conditioning unit all day long. The rain cleared up around dinner time, leaving with its departure a scrubbed city. All the roads, still wet from the earlier downpour, glistened as dusk settled around us. My husband, son, and I headed out to dinner, walking down now familiar streets past brownstones and corner markets. Despite the dampness, the weather felt as if we were going to soon turn a corner–to spring. Clocks were to be set ahead at midnight, making daylight longer, and bringing with it the promise of flip-flops and melting ice cream cones.
My college roommate, who was from Hawaii, bemoaned all the cold days of January and February. This girl, who’d grown up in, what some would call, paradise of palm trees and sugar fields, had grown tired of the novelty of winter weather. I remember telling her that spring would make up for the gloominess of these days, that the pay off was worth a little suffering. As March ended and cherry blossoms bloomed all over the city, she acknowledged what she’d missed living in a place where the weather was perfect all the time. She had never known how wonderful it was to savor a day where the sun was high up in the sky, wind rustling newly sprouted leaves, and flowers now surging up from ground, frozen a month ago.
Spring is approaching. All of us can feel a shift as temperatures now creep out of the 30’s into the 40’s. Soon enough, the playground outside will be full as the longer daylight and milder temperatures provides the perfect escape for mothers and their restless children. Easter, the signal of spring, will be here in a week. This time of renewal, regrowth, and change will make us grateful that we can walk to dinner, not dressed like the Michelin Man. More runners will head outdoors, most likely, to the path along the East river. Bicycles in storage units will get new air pumped into its deflated tires. Restaurants with outdoor seating will soon put these stored tables outside on sidewalks, inviting each passerby to come and have a seat.
This will be the first spring for our son, who had survived his first winter rather well. The boy, who would have lived in flip-flops permanently, is now well versed in coats, hats, and even mittens. I’ve tried to explain the lightheartedness that takes hold of the city in spring, but I know he has to simply experience this time for himself to fully appreciate the pay off.
Yes, it could still snow in April. And those poor souls in Ohio and other Midwest cities must feel as if spring is a long way away. But here, evidence of its impending arrival is everywhere.
