An Ode to Winter

I hear that it is going to be 52°F on Friday. That sounds like an excellent idea. We are still wading in icebergs, dodging (most) gargantuan potholes, discerning between black ice and pavement with relatively great success. At least this year there hasn't been any huge slips. Every one's car has acquired a coating of grayish yuckishness from all of the accumulated salt and dirt. There are still grayish-hued parkas a plenty amidst the rainbow-colored bobbing sea of winter caps that dot the streets and train stations. Courageous (crazy) bikers and runners swiftly navigate the iceberg/concrete jungle like stealth ninjas with only one horizontal strip of eyes and brows exposed. The occasional appearance of the sun seems to be accompanied by a spirit of derision that laughs out loud through the bone-biting wind. Yet... every once in awhile inside this gray, black and super off-white jungle of salt, ice and potholes an outlier appears with a hoody, sweat pants and white k-swiss (beanie-less, gloveless, parka-less, Starbucks-less). This occasional sighting gives me hope. Maybe the weather isn't as cold, maybe the snow isn't coming anymore? The frequency of these sightings coupled with the variety of non-parka accessorized clothing seems to be an omen of a change that is about to befall us. Yes! The end is near. Then, the sun will do something productive besides mock and scorn. The trees will awake with phosphorescent buds of green and yellow. The joggers and bikers will shed their ninja costumes and reveal knees and ankles; elbows and wrists. The train station inhabitants will come out of their parka-lined cocoon to reveal grayish sallow selves that yearn for the new season. Cars will glimmer with brightness as they shake off the winter's dust. The smell of fresh tar and asphalt will effervesce from the streets as the orange vested workers move about a sea of similarly colored cones, shoveling, spreading and swearing. Icebergs will melt to reveal the detritus of forgotten recyclables, half eaten Christmas goods and unneedled Christmas trees. All of this, is just around the corner. I hear that it is going to be 52°F on Friday.

By Christian A. Gentry