Spring comes when it comes

Really, it hasn’t been a bad winter in the Delaware Valley. It felt colder than normal, and it did seem like there were more single-digit mornings than usual, but we only got like 22 inches of snow, which is average.

The general consensus of the arrival of spring is “Oh God, I’m so sick of it.” I … guess I’m sick of it, too? We had that snowstorm in March so maybe it's that recent event that’s on people’s minds. But we hardly live in Boston or Buffalo (not that it stops people around here from walking around emoting like the Tony Awards committee is following them). We were pretty much snow-free in January and that’s a big chunk of the season. This winter just hasn’t bothered me.

Winter doesn’t bother me too much anymore anyway (Christ, did I just quote “Let It Go”?). I love summer but just stopped caring about the cold some time ago. Even last year, with the snow totals that were actually horrifying, didn’t get to me too much. Weather only bothers me when it’s really unseasonable; a cool day in June will leave me livid but a cold February day won’t. Spring will come when it comes. It’s never not.

Spring is of course due to come tomorrow. As every year, when the stars align, the calendar flips immediately and permanently to spring. No snow will occur until December and if under some bizarre circumstance it does, we’ll all fall dramatically to our knees and cry, “I thought it was supposed to be spring!” and expect an answer from an uncaring universe. All those people in line for free water ice at Rita’s (why pay the exorbitant $2 when you can wait in a long line?) will be able to do so in tanktops. There will be no cold winds until many months from now.

And of course, April snow, as rare as Haley’s comet, is completely off the table.