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Always Wanting What's Next

(View of Katahdin from Cold Stream Pond, Lowell, Maine)

The ice went out this week on our lake. A little early, April 20th is average ice out. Not sure if that fact is still accurate. I am recalling information from a book report I wrote in high school. I graduated in 1984. With global warming or climate change, whichever it is called now, those facts could be old.

It is always a reassuring sign that spring is definitely on its way when the ripple of waves replace the frozen landscape. Despite the Easter weekend blizzard, the snow melted early also. But the nightly below-freezing temps have been lingering on as winter refuses to let go of her mighty grip. It takes all day to warm up and with the wind causing the air to still be uncomfortable, the shorts and T-shirts remain packed.

Maybe I am just getting spleeny in my advancing years. I prefer to admit, I am just fed up with winter and can't wait for spring to emerge from her hibernation. Along with the chronological increase of my birthdays, a negative correlation has taken place with an ice out tradition. Actually, there isn't a correlation at all, it has just ceased to exist.

We moved to the lake fall of 1996 and the following spring I began a tradition of going swimming the day the ice went out. Just another fact to prove my insanity. It was a crazy tradition and one I would do on some years without a spotter. The last time I took the hypothermic inducing plunge, I had a hard time catching my breath. From that point on I decided my life was more important than my silly tradition. This year I didn't even so much as stick my toe in.

(Sunset Cold Stream Pond, Lowell, Maine)

Eagerly watching the ice change its character from a solid snow covered mass, to just ice, then turn grey as it thins, and then slushy in appearance to what seems like magic and disappear. Sure, there are always the handful of little ice icebergs or ice jams that blow into a cove, but it seems like one day there is ice, then the next it is gone. Some say it sinks, some say it melts. I don't know what happens, I just know it is gone and that very same day the ducks and loons return. It truly is magically.

(Same view of Katahdin as above, just not zoomed in)

Why is it we are always wanting what's next. After a grueling winter we want spring. After the April showers drown us, we want the May flowers. When those flowers whither up and die from the scorching summer sun we beg for the cool fall evenings. Then in late fall when the first snow tickles our nose we bounce with excitement and get out the hat and gloves ready for snow sports. And the cycle starts all over again.

We all have probably said, "I wish I had more time." And now, with Corona, most of us have it, and the only thing you hear in the news is how people are trying to fill that time with something to keep from being bored. I say embrace it the best you can. Fulfill those promises you made to yourself or others that began with, "When I get a chance...." or "When I have the time I will..." If we change our perspective we can realize that we have been handed a gift. Just like the changing of seasons, this too shall pass.

Love you much,



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