Considering this has been one of the coldest winters (and snowiest in some parts of the world) in history I can hardly believe I’m saying this: I was shocked the other day to read we have to change the clocks again next week, March 8 to be precise. So soon?
Where’s the winter gone? Oh, I know there are a lot of you reading this who think I’ve lost my mind. Especially those who live in Boston and may not see pavement again until June or July. If you’re lucky.
Let me clarify. It seems to me it was always later in the season when we did this. You know, move the clocks ahead. Spring forward. Fall back, spring forward? Doesn’t March 8 seem early to you? Not that I’m complaining.
It’s so encouraging, I can’t even be bothered about losing an hour’s sleep. The days will be markedly longer. Already it doesn’t get dark until slightly after 6:00 and what a difference that makes. And now it will stay bright, even longer. And longer. And longer. And all of our moods will improve. More smiles, more chuckles, more of a spring in everyone’s step. You’ll see. I’m right about this.
And before we know it, we’ll walk out our front doors one morning and there, waiting for us, will be what is for me the first official sign of spring: Tulips. In all their brightly-coloured, cheerful glory. And that’s when, in that instant, we’ll forget all the pain of the winter we’ve just been through.
Maybe winter’s like childbirth. Maybe the extra hours of daylight and the buds poking through the still hard earth is like holding your baby for the first time. Labour? What labour? Contractions? No big deal. Pushing? Was over before I knew it. Shovelling? Shivering? Slipping? Sliding? Gee, wasn’t really so bad, was it?? We’re so much more resilient than we think, than we give ourselves credit for.
So listen up. I am taking this clock changing as a very good sign. A very positive sign. We’ve seen the worst of it, I swear. We’ll be shedding our long johns and our big, bulky sweaters and our boots and our hats and our gloves and our heavy coats any minute now. We’ll be dusting off the patio furniture sooner than we think. Filling the BBQ tank. Mowing the grass. Watching the world go by while we soak up the rays at our favourite sidewalk cafes.
I’ll bet we may even find ourselves bitching about how hot it is.