After biking on Sunday, we hiked about a mile to a waterfall for some pictures. Buzz is testing out his pinhole camera he fashioned out of an old Brownie.
There was a lot of water.
And it was going fast.
It was too chilly to dip our feet in, but for some, it was just too tempting.
I’m convinced that very few things in life are as infectious as the unadulterated joy of a dog chasing a stick into a river.
Last week I was having lunch in the staff room when some co-workers came in. They were talking about the impending winter storm and how awful it would be. Soon they included me in the conversation, clearly assuming that I agreed with them. I mentioned something about being sad that winter is leaving and that I was in fact glad for the chance to see one last good snowfall before the season changed.
By the looks on their faces, you would think I had just announced myself to be a serial killer of puppies.
I understand that most people don’t enjoy winter. They talk endlessly about wishing for warmer days and sunshine. They don’t like being bundled up in sweaters and coats and scarves. They complain as soon as the temperature drops one degree. Days that include the slightest bit of rain or wind are deemed “horrible” and “disgusting.”
But I love it. I am energized by a cold, crisp day. I love my sweaters and cuddling under a blanket on my couch. I adore the fact that most of the bugs go away in winter. I think snow is stunningly gorgeous. I don’t mind grey cloudy days. Too many of them in a row might be depressing, but so can too many days of sunshine. For me, too many days of anything without a break wears my nerves a bit thin.
For the record, my preferences may put me in a minority, but they do not, in fact, make me a “freak.” And I have never harmed – nor plan to harm – a single puppy.
So some may see green amidst the melting snow and rejoice that signs of spring are making their appearances.
I see the vanishing snow and I say a silent, already-nostalgic goodbye to winter.
(Incidentally, I am also saying goodbye to another year in the life of a dinosaur, for today is my birthday and it marks the beginning of a new year’s journey.)
The signs are subtle but unmistakable. A freshness appears in the air that you can detect with that first breath taken outside the door. Delicate, blushing flowers appear low to the ground, humbly and cheerfully, to remind you that it’s time to emerge from hibernation. And pushing out from the rock is a flash of green – not the same green that has endured the snows and the winds, but a young, more vibrant green that has just arrived. Don’t let the sudden drop in temperature or forecast of snow fool you. That’s just one last little tantrum that winter will throw. It will be over soon.
A Modern Day Dinosaur 