Upper Midwesterners have stoically endured a long, cool spring. It rained 21 of 31 days in the Twin Cities in May, and many of us felt as if we were living in the Pacific Northwest. Fortunately, I managed to avoid the rainy weather blues, perhaps because I have a baby to keep me busy.

We had some warm weather in April, including one day when it reached 80 degrees here in Northfield, but we had to wait over a month to get over 80 again. That occurred yesterday, when the temperature in Minneapolis reached 84 degrees. Here in Northfield, excited by the newly mild morning air, I put on my shorts and took the baby for a joyous bike ride around town. We could smell the lilacs in the air and see the trees in full leaf, and I could feel the old possibilities of summer.

I’ve noticed that each change of seasons brings back memories. There’s something about that first touch of new air, that first sight of a new season. As I felt the summer air strike my body, I recalled some of pleasant memories of summer: bike rides, beaches, popsicles, baseball, tennis, and lying in the cool, prickly grass.

It’s a brief time, this period of the young season. As a time of possibility, it promises complete fulfillment and joy, even a return to the past, and it hasn’t yet been diminished by disappointment or unmet expectations.

No season can meet such a promise, but it seems impossible not to hope that it will. And so, I launch myself into summer.

This entry was posted on Friday, June 3rd, 2005 at 8:04 pm and is filed under Minnesota, Weather.