Spring. Or not.

At 6:02 this morning, spring came to Central Minnesota.  I am glad it did, because when I heard the weather with the 6AM news, it was -2 with a wind chill near -25.  Certainly it is warmer now--by tomorrow, it should be almost 15 degrees.  I can imagine crocuses and tulips following soon, as soon as almost three feet of snow melts and four feet of the tundra thaws.

Minnesotans are not necessarily hardier folk than the soft, coddled thick-blooded people who live in say, Florida.  We have simply adapted by cloaking our bodies in high tech layers of down and fleece and thermal "this and that."  Those less capable/less durable folk in warmer climes can get by in t-shirts and shorts. All those layers have pluses and minuses.  Certainly avoiding frostbite is a plus.  Hiding and disguising our bodies is mixed thing.  I never knew that the person I see almost every day at the local coffee shop was a woman until she shed four layers one day while searching for her ringing  phone.  I am certain that I have maintained my beach volleyball physique through the winter but I really am uncertain as I haven't seen my self in less than two sweatshirts and a down coat since October.  That is why around here April is the cruelest month--people see themselves uncloaked for the first time in months without the covering/sheltering snow, and it can be a shock for everyone. Trust me--don't visit the first warm weekend without serious sunglasses and the physical ability to look away.

That is but one of the many adaptations we have made to survive.  It has even affected how we eat.  While those who actually experience spring are already nibbling on fresh new green things, we are still buying lettuce by the head and bag that was picked/packed weeks ago in sunny Mexico.  Asparagus for us right now is in a can, and the only thing green around here are leftover St. Patrick Day decorations that flutter in the still bitter breeze.

But we have lots of time to ponder and be creative, so it is perfect for a poetry challenge.  So, by sometime Saturday, come up with a poem about spring.  It can be of any format, though I suppose sonnets about spring would have to win.  How many lines are they?  You should try to use  the following words:

Incandescent
concrete
magnet
wing
journey or destination

Or not.  Throw together some ditty or doggerel and send on to me.  I will post all that are received sometime this weekend, probably when I am not shoveling or slipping and sliding in our continuing winter.