Of all seasons of the year, I think I hate the end of winter the most. It always brings the worst weather conditions of the year.
It would be nice to have cold weather and snow on the ground until the end of winter came abruptly and conclusively. In one day, the temperature would bounce from 20 to 55, all the snow would melt, and thereafter the thermometer would never go below 50.
Of course, that never happens. Instead, we get this interim period of slop and slush and ice filled water and treacherous footing and wet shoes. The snow melts, then we get freezing rain, then the mercury plunges again and everything freezes over. Winter drags on, and on, and you never know when it’s truly over.
In a word, it blows.
They say March comes in like a lamb or a lion. In Columbus today, where more snow is falling, we’ve drawn the fierce and roaring lion. The snowfall is making the riotous jumble of lawn furniture in our back yard look like a bad effort at modern art sculpture.
They say that March goes out the opposite way it came in. If so, that would be fine with us. It seems like this winter has lasted forever, and as far as we are concerned the lamb-like weather can’t get here soon enough.