It's bitterly cold out-- for the south, that is.
There are a few random snowflakes falling from the sky this afternoon. My kids are giddy at the prospect of snow-- seriously discussing what they can do to up the ante in getting school cancelled. One says wear pajamas backwards to bed. Another says sleep with a spoon under your pillow. Still another suggestion goes up for consideration: pray real hard.
I head to the grocery store alone this evening, pulling my coat tight around me as I dart through the parking lot. I play beat the clock to get in, get the goods, and get back out again. Done with my shopping, I seek shelter from the brisk wind that blows as I load groceries into the back of my van. On the way home, the weatherman on the radio says that it's going to feel like February for the rest of this week.
And then this song comes on. I am alone in the car-- free to turn the music up as loud as I want. So I do. For a few minutes I forget about cold temperatures and whether it will snow tonight. I forget about the hot chocolate and tangerine herb tea I bought to warm us. I lose myself in the promise of summer, waiting just around the corner.
And for those few minutes, it doesn't feel like February at all.