Here I sit, my deadline looming, with not a thing say. I ask my office mate for a topic to write about. She and I start to spitball about this time of year. Dark, miserable, gloomy, boring… not great starting points for an article! In fact, as I’m writing this, it is 9 degrees outside. Nine degrees. She asks what I’m looking forward to. Spring, I say. But not the foothills spring with 2 feet of wet heavy snow. Spring! Baby lambs and chicks, crocus, daffodils, tulips. Light sweaters and shoes without socks. I know about this type of spring from movies with people in easter dresses. Not because I’ve ever lived through that type of spring. I’m a Colorado girl.
I once worked as a hostess at a restaurant in Denver where I walked through snow in my pretty open-toed shoes on Mother’s Day. When I was 20-something. And I still remember the disappointment that it was snowing on Mother’s Day. And of course there was 20 inches of snow on my daughter’s graduation day last May. She had to wear sweatpants and snow boots with the special dress she’d picked out for her day. I could go on and on. And you don’t want me to go on and on because right now you’re thinking of all of the spring ick that has happened to you. As I tell my clients, winters here aren’t bad at all, but spring can kill you. And yet, we still plan for those beautiful May days! We still buy the pretty graduation dresses and make plans to be outside in May. Why? Collective amnesia. Seriously.
Every fall I tell my clients who are moving to the area about how our autumns are our reward for our springs. Because we do have amazing autumns. And I’m not sure if you’ve picked up on it yet, but I’m not a big fan of springtime in the foothills. And yet, I’ve lived in Colorado my entire life. Surely, if I was miserable all winter and spring, I’d have moved by now, right? But there are those days, even in the dark of winter, where the sun comes out and warms everyone up. It melts the snow on the road. The skies are bluebird blue. And it makes us smile. Of course the days where the sun comes out after a snow and all is quiet and still and the snow sparkles like glitter are also pretty wonderful. And it is what causes the collective amnesia. And why I never want to live anywhere else.
So now, here I sit, my deadline looming, thinking about how lucky I am to call Colorado and the foothills home. So what if the garbage is stacking up in my garage because there are drifts at the bottom of my driveway that I can’t pull my garbage cans through? So what if I haven’t seen the sun in several days? So what if everything is more difficult because it’s cold and snowy outside? I’m a Colorado girl and that is a small price to pay for all of the other glorious days I get to swoon over my surroundings.