Thawing

This week the local weather forecasters have been using a blessed little phrase: three day thaw. We’re in the middle of three straight days in which the temperature isn’t supposed to drop below freezing and the highs are in the 50s.

And, oh my friends, this is a thing of beauty indeed. Sidewalks are getting wider. Parking spaces are reemerging. Hedges are peeking out from under their blankets of snow. In a few places, grass is even visible. The air even seems fresher. And this place begins to feel less like a winter wasteland, and less uncomfortable. And I feel renewed.

I know this isn’t spring. I know there’s a lot of New England winter left to come. Goodness, for all we know, this could be the eye of the storm, that moment of deceptive calm between onslaughts, and another 50 inches could be waiting on the other side. (Hopefully not.) But whatever comes, I’m so very grateful for this respite from the assault of winter weather that we’ve had. I desperately needed this time for my psyche to rest and heal.

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