After the quiet retreat of winter in Northern Michigan, folks tend to get a bit edgy come March. The subtle changes in weather call out for movement. There is extra energy, more light. Some call it spring fever or March madness, for me, it is a transition, a waking up. I feel ready to be moving on to the next season but, winter is not quite done with me and that is frustrating. So, I bought myself a bunch of roses. Because, I am missing warmer weather. Because, I am missing being outside and feeling the warmth of the sun. As I stood looking at the flowers in the grocery store, I said to the women standing next to me, “I am going to make it spring inside.”

I have no control over the weather. I have nothing left inside that allows me to appreciate snow. The quiet. The long evenings and dark mornings. The stark white fields and monochromatic skies. Stew, slippers, fire, snowshoes have lost their appeal, until next December. It is no good wishing for another season.  Spring has yet to arrive. The trick is to be present but, also honor the readiness for change. In this, I can make it through the end of winter. And while I wait, I do the best I can to be ok with where I am. I make it spring inside.  I sit in the window where the sun pours in, though it is still 20* outside and soak it in. In the afternoon when the temperatures get in the high 30’s I make sure to get outside and listen to the birdsong and feel the hope that it will be spring soon.

Until then, heat up with a winter poem by my new favorite poet, Tyler Knott Gregson.