I always welcome Winter when it shows its cards. I value the reminder to pause and rest, tucked inside away from the cold. I eagerly take up the invitation to haul out my Winter goods. I have enough Winter clothing to keep me cozy and warm on the coldest of days, even outdoor recess with temps below 35. Inside, I have warm bedding, an abundance of throw blankets, and a wealth of twinkling lights to greet the season of darkness and cold.
But no matter how much cozy I can summon and enjoy, the arrival of February has me thinking about Spring. Sometimes I blame the cold and the darkness for my recurring daydreams of warmth; sometimes I blame the Spring garden catalogs that fill my mailbox come mid-January. Sometimes it’s just a longing for the ease of stepping outdoors without the advance-planning of shoes, coats, mittens, hats, scarves and the knowledge that despite the layers, the cold will still take my breath away.
Come the last days of February, I scan the 10-day weather forecast with a keen eye, looking for two or three days in a row above 45 degrees to warrant an announcement that Spring has arrived. This will be an announcement that only I will make and only I will embrace. I call it Sassafras Spring and, like Spring itself, it will be both arbitrary and capricious.*Dark Winter coats and sweaters and warm Winter tights are banished and packed away, replaced by pink and coral sweaters, canvas sneakers, and a sky blue coat…all warm enough to get me through the cold of early Spring but bright enough for me to pretend that Winter is over. I’ll haul out an abundance of Spring scarves, in colors bright enough to signal the season of growth but still warm enough to keep me from shivering.
This year, Sassafras Spring was declared on March 1, far too early to be sensible, of course. But just in time to cheer me up.
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