Stumbling upon hope

STUMBLING UPON HOPE:  It has been a long winter here, a long snowy winter. We’ve had snow on the ground since November 30, 2022. That’s snow that stuck around. We had our first snow of the season on October 14; it wasn’t much, an inch or more in the northern Twin Cities area, but still. Now, we are up to 89.7 inches of snow, the third snowiest winter season since 1884. The thrill of the first snowfall; the refreshing gulps of cold air; the joy of a white Christmas bringing magic to holiday celebrations; the quiet hush of a world carpeted in purity—are just fond memories now. Snow lovers have welcomed their extended playground, but for the rest of us, we are tired and just want the snow to stop. And, no, we didn’t laugh at the eight inches of snow that played an April Fool’s joke on us this past Saturday.

I know that other areas of the country have had their share of weather woes. Lake Tahoe has had well over 620 inches of snow. There have been tornadoes, mudslides, floods—so a long, snowy winter isn’t bad compared to the horrors others have lived through. And so, I am grateful that I haven’t had to go through what others have experienced. But that gratefulness has not wiped away the simmering discontent living under my skin.

I have, in a sense, become weather dependent. If the sun shines and the sky is a brilliant blue and the cold sparkles like diamonds in the snow, my spirits are lifted up. If the sky is colorless, yes colorless, neither grey nor overcast with varying shades, but literally just a dull white, I feel defeated. It is a weather rollercoaster of sorts, and this year the ride has been too long.

But today, I came out of an office building and saw green! Glorious green! Shoots sprouting up from the remnants of last year’s brown in a spot where the snow had melted. And I finally relaxed my shoulders.

No winter lasts forever, not the winter of our doldrums, nor the winter of our anxieties, nor the winter of our grief. Spring comes one way or another. Hope springs eternal—it really does. And today, I found a sign of that hope in sprouts of green pushing up out of the cold and barren ground.