Colorado Front Range winters don’t amount to much for those of us who have experienced the arctic Upper Midwest or other regions in which winter is less a season than a protracted siege. So, I’ll miss the sparkly white stuff and the bracing clarity of frosty air.
But my cabin-feverish hens and cats will be glad to be back out on bare earth again. And I can understand the jubilation of friends who have felt about our recent, robust bout of winter much as they might about the overly long visit of a beloved but eventually tiresome relative: How can we miss you if you won’t go away?
It’s going away. And I’m already missing the intricate geometry of ice and snow, jagged and soft: