The switch to spring, no matter how temporary, leaves me discombobulated. A student tells me that the spring semester has been harder because, well, winter is just so tough for people who need to bear down and work.
Except now, suddenly, it is spring!
Am I ready?
Sure, I’m biking to work now. That’s good.
The lake, half solid, but in places, quite liquid.
My noon sprint down Bascom Hill for an espresso is easy. Pleasant even.
[Just curious: what would you do if you spilled half your coffee on your white shirt minutes before going in to class?]
At the same time, the “no excuses” season is suddenly thrust upon us. Don’t sit still. Don’t not make plans. Look hard at what your next six months will be like. Because after that, it’s winter all over again. And the inevitable return to sleepy time.
But now, in March, aren’t I supposed to be leaping forward? Producing at the next level of energy and grand inspiration?
Thank goodness next week promises to be cool again. I'll get my bearings then. Because really, I’m not yet primed for this bout of good weather. I'm still throwing cold water on my face.
Biking home along the lake shore path, I think how transitions are tough. Though not for everyone. I pedal past the rowing house and I notice the team's out and practicing. Not on the lake yet. Something about the fragile ice cover perhaps. But they're ready. Even if it is mid March, they're ready.
Oh, to shake off that coffee soaked shirt (so to speak) and get the muscles working again!
Soon. It just takes me a while to figure out the pulse of the new season.