Home > 2015, Personal > A Peek at Spring, the Peak of Spring

A Peek at Spring, the Peak of Spring

The sun has broken free of the clouds grasp, dark and swirling their way across the sky overhead. Harsh wind, violent rain, talk of tornadoes and of quarter-sized hail stones. This has been our reality for the past day or so, but today, for the briefest of moments, we were offered the most fleeting of glimpses at what Spring is supposed to look like. Rich blue skies, lightly spotted with white puffs, a palette of greens and browns spread across lawns and back yards. Children running in the street, soaking up the sun like so many hungry sponges. Trucks pulling boats on trailers, families riding by on bicycles. This is spring. We’re finally beginning to remember what the world is like when there isn’t a thick blanket of white crystalline snow laid over it.

Tornadoes still worry me. I long for earthquakes, which I have experienced before and, as a child of California, have had safety instructions for which drilled into my subconscious from a very early age. The thought process behind earthquake safety centers around securing yourself underneath or inside of a sturdy enough structure as to avoid falling debris, along with hoping the ground does not open op beneath you. Tornado safety seems to center around getting as far below ground as possible and hoping for the best. Neither is particularly comforting, though I’d rather take my chances with fault lines over storm cells.

A change in my work schedule has made sleep, an already fickle presence in my life, into more of an abstract concept. As my place of employment has changed their hours of operation, doing away with 24-hour service, I have had to change my own hours of operation to compensate. No longer am I the humble midnight pizza slinger I once was. No, I am now forced to brave the blistering sunlight, that accursed orange orb of pure blazing hatred hanging in the afternoon sky. The job itself has not changed much, only the time of day at which I do it. Whether made by dusk or by dawn, pizza is pizza.

In the time it has taken me to write this post, the sky has once again clouded over, their shadows once again cast upon the land below. I see no rain, I hear no harsh wind, but they both may come again shortly. Such is weather in Minnesota.

The lawn must be mowed during this lull in activity, as one never knows when the next break in precipitation may come. I must also bring out the garbage and prepare for the walk to work. The uncertainty painted on the clouds outside makes me wonder if I’ll be dry when I get there.

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Categories: 2015, Personal
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