Temperature Psychosis
Spring and I have trust issues.
The temperature outside is psychotic. I don’t trust the look of the weather. Sticking my nose out to test the temp, I pack an extra layer or two for the ten-degree midday flip.
Have gratitude, they say.
I curse my walks, too often sweating in a parka or freezing in a spring jacket. But I’m grateful for no longer needing my cleats to walk or run safely.
I expect snow, sleet, blazing sunshine, followed by rain, and a temperature plummet or random upward swing like a crazed barometric rollercoaster. Somehow, even as Spring pumps the brakes, flowers, birds, and insects emerge, their optimism is stronger than mine.
I make bold fashion statements as I stroll through the 1950s identical bungalow-lined neighbourhood. Shorts with down jackets. Earmuffs with flipflops. ‘Socks and sandals’ were surely invented during these seasonal transitions. I’m of an age where I could give a flying squirrel what the neighbours think, after all, they will soon see me blessed by dirt when transplanting season begins. It’s just more of the same.
Gratitude, they say.
I’m grateful for these brief, imperfect days before complaints about humidity begin.
Gratitude, they say.
I’m grateful for longer daylight, earlier sun rises, and the sanguine creatures reminding me of this changeable existence.
What are you grateful for today?
Oh, your turns of phrase make me chuckle - in appreciation of your writing and in self recognition.
Lovely post, Linda! It's a crazy time of year, isn't it? I adore spring, though. Well, when it's spring-y! Over here we get lulled into a false sense of security whenever the sun comes out.... and then British weather reminds us that we're supposed to be having April showers right now and it then rains for three days straight.
We're having an incomprehensibly early heatwave right now, though. Bonkers! x