Farewell to Winter

I thought about calling this blog "My Burka-Wearing Self," but that would just be wrong. However, when I stopped to edit yesterday's selfies, I was a bit astonished to notice that my cold weather headgear looked more like an Islamic burka than I had intended. Hmmm...

The stocking cap I usually wear on top didn't help at all, and it was even worse when I pulled my balaclava up to cover my nose.

Last fall, when winter weather arrived early, I seem to remember wanting a black balaclava, like so many skiers wear to keep warm. I received two for Christmas, so I promptly gifted one to Meagan to wear on her early morning, winter runs, on the acreage behind her house, where no one will ever see her. I've been wearing mine all winter long, whenever I walk in my neighborhood, thankful for the warmth it provides, and especially for the way it protects my face and neck from the wind. I wasn't planning to make a fashion statement, and it's obvious that I didn't.

And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. Matthew 6:28-29

I am glad that God doesn't require me to wear a black burka, or even a more colorful hijab, all the time. He has set me free from many things, including the need for overly-modest apparel. You might think I should be concerned that my conservative neighbors will resent my pseudo-Islamic choice of clothing, but I have found that most people just smile and wave when they see me out walking the dog. I've probably crossed the line to "eccentric grandma," but, at least, I'm warm when I walk.

As an aside, I'll just say that I've found Gering to be well-deserving of its recent designation as the safest city in the state. Those who live here are mostly nice, caring people who welcome anyone, regardless of race, ethnic background, religion, or level of eccentricity.

But, to continue--yesterday was a cold, breezy day, so I was thankful for my warm, winter wear, even as I wished it would be the last time I need to bundle up. Today was a more promising day, giving me hope that spring is really on the horizon. Today's 55-degree weather prompted me to wear my blue sweatshirt, with the hood up only when I was walking into the north wind. Otherwise, I enjoyed the almost forgotten sensation of feeling the warm sun beating down on my bare head.

Yesterday, I spotted a few blades of green grass, here and there, and the first robin of spring hopped down the sidewalk in front of me. A solitary mourning dove was cooing overhead, on the power line. My neighbors had a clump of purple crocus just beginning to bloom, on the south side of their house.

Today, though, many more lawns were showing the effects of Friday's rain-snow mix; I spied a lot of green grass today! The birds were singing in the trees as I walked through Northfield Park, and several doves cavorted on a nearby rooftop. March has been a lion-like month, all over the state, but finally, on the last day of the month, we are seeing some weather that might redeem March's sorry reputation. 

This year, after all its hostility, March has gone out like a lamb.

See! The winter is past; the (snows) are over and gone. Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come, the cooing of doves is heard in our land. Song of Songs 2: 11-12