Is It March Already?

KK and I have pushed back the time of our morning walks to noon or midafternoon. These winter days have been absolutely gorgeous, brilliant sunshine, blue skys and just a hint of breeze. However, our walking time change is not in response to this Sunday's Daylight Savings Time change, rather, saftey. Having had a late onset of winter here in Michigan, winter weather changes usually observed in February, are now felt in March. With the sun higher in the sky each day, the days are somewhat warmer, relatively that is; mid to upper teens, sometimes low twenties F during the day, and very cold, single digits to below zero during the nights. This makes the sap run, good sugaring, but also the snow on the sidewalks that has been packed into ice, now is warmed somewhat, then freezes leaving a skating ring surface to walk on.

KK and I addressed the slick sidewalks with ice cleats earlier this winter, but now, with many stretches of sidewalk clear and dry, 1/4 to 1/3 mile lengths at a time, we found ourselves taking on and off the cleats. Our strategy now is to leave while the sun has had a chance to warm mother earth, await until the icy areas become slushy so that our boots tramp and grip our way along. This strategy works until Burcham Road, shaded as it is by densely packed deciduous trees, sheltering the sidewalk from direct rays of the sun, warming slightly with the prevailing ambient temperature, but freezing at night, leaving a perpetual ice rink surface for major stretches. KK and I have taken different approaches to this dangerous walkway issue: I walk with short choppy steps finding snow and traction where I can. KK on the other hand, chooses to walk in the streets. The danger in the street is to be slowly run over by aged drivers who long ago should have had their licenses revolked, or early drivers (teenagers) who drive distracted by companions, radios, Ipods, cellphones oblivious to their outside-of-the-car surroundings. Two days ago I observed both kinds of dangerous drivers: the elderly, driving slowly on Burcham, bumping along the curb in their Saab; and the younger, nearly plowing into the rear of a gasoline tanker truck, whose lights and flashers were going. The tanker was turning into a gas station but waiting for a car to clear the driveway. I had oberved the tanker stopped 1/3 mile ahead and saw the young person passing me on my right. I slowed to let her switch over to my lane, then I realized the driver was unaware of the tanker until tail lights came on and the car lerched forward, stopping a few feet from the tankers bumper. To me that was unsettling.

As winter creeps into spring, the times of glorious days mixed with the pall of night has me reflecting on the seasons of one's life; the calendar, a metaphor for life's seasons. Indeed it is fortunate that KK and I live in the Northern USA, as there are seasons to mark such changes, as well as uplift our spirits in anticipation of the coming rebirth. Activities, no matter spring, summer, winter or fall, are insufficient for my spirit; rather, it is the shared moments that binds us together, evolving as we are.