Thursday, April 12, 2007

Winter's Last Stand

As I sit here at my desk I hear a constant chorus of pings, splats and sharp, shot-like noises. What is it, you wonder? A computer meltdown? Children playing on the sidewalk below? Something in the microwave exploding? No, the symphony isn't any of those things. Instead, it's what I'm calling Winter's Last Stand. Because although the calendar says it's officially spring, and in some places it may actually be springlike, there are ice pellets smashing against the window pane. Apparently winter hasn't gotten the memo that it's out of vogue for the next half of the year. Either that or it doesn't give a rip. Or maybe it's just like so many other things here on the streets of New York. It is doing what it wants to do and the rest of us...well, we can just cope.

Absurdly I am amused by this whole springtime winter storm. I know, I know, it's going to be a crappy commute for everyone. But the fact that the non-conformist weather is the top news of the day in this part of the world is funny. It is the thing that we'll all be talking about, not only today but for the rest of the week, at least.

And as it begins to pound even more insistently against the glass beside me, I stifle a giggle. Why? Because, and this is a secret I usually keep to myself, I'm a bit of a non-conformist too. A rebel. A go-my-own-way sort of gal. Always finding my way a bit to the left or right of the beaten path, I guess you'd say. So a bit of rebellious weather amuses the pants off me!

What about you? Are you a stick-to-the-calendar-of-life type of person or do you muddle through at your own pace? Either one works, and eventually we all reach our destinations, whatever they may be. And really, to make everything run smoothly we truly need all kinds, don't we? :)

So whether you'd be caressing my face with the tender breeze of an early spring day or a winter-wannabe rebel heaving even bigger ice balls at me, I hope this day treats you well.Me? I'm going to enjoy a day of inclement weather. It'll keep me inside at my computer, writing.

After all, isn't winter making a last stand so I can work?