I
mentioned something in a recent newspaper column that bears repeating here.
It’s a way of looking beyond the present and anticipating the future. In this
case, it’s a way to put the cold and snow of winter in a box and isolate it
while we welcome the coming spring.
I
refer to expiration dates printed on perishable items such as eggs. I bought a
carton of eggs two days ago and noticed that the expiration date was March 13.
That’s only seven days away from the first day of spring.
Likewise,
I was in the eye doctor’s office last week and the receptionist made out a card
for my next appointment. It was in early May. The first thing that came to mind
had nothing to do with eye health, either. Instead, I thought, “Spring. That’s
spring. I’ll be fiddleheading and trolling for salmon.”
So
near and yet so far, spring is, especially when nighttime temperatures sit a
zero and don’t budge until mid-morning the next day.
Of
course I don’t pay much attention to expiration dates on egg cartons in fall,
because it only reminds me of impending winter and the end of growing things,
at least for a while. But now, in late winter, every little bit of cheer I can
latch on to helps to buoy my spirits.
Everything
passes, including winter. Soon sap will drip from maple limbs broken during
December’s ice storm. Flocks of red-winged blackbirds will descend upon fields
and lawns and wild plants will push up through the newly-thawed soil. It won’t
be long now. And if you don’t believe me, just check out the date on a carton
of eggs.
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