Faux spring

Could it be spring?
My calendar says January (actually, December – I keep meaning to change it), but the air is warmish, inviting me to shed coat, gloves and scarf.
Squirrels are playing tag around the barren walnut tree on the east side of the house. The fastest squirrel turns from his perch on a low limb to scold the loser on the ground, his whipping tail an exclamation point to sassy chattering.
My watch correctly announces the date – 1.7.8.
It is January. It is also 60 degrees.
My dog is panting.
Fickle January often holds a secret spring up its sleeve. Up the other sleeve is a blizzard or ice storm or an assault of wintry wind.
Knowing this, I enjoy the hand we’ve been dealt today by Mother Nature and wander around in the yard in shirtsleeves looking for a good excuse to be outside.
The Ump is on patrol, doing one of his favorite jobs – dog waste collection. It’s even a nice day to pick up poop.
In the teasing sunlight of this warm Sunday, 2008 doesn’t seem too intimidating.
Last year was bronco ride for the Rankers. We had some fabulous ups – O and W were engaged in August and plans began for their nuptials in September.
The worst part of 2007 occurred in October when my Mom suffered a stroke. I don’t know if I have ever been so scared – at least not recently. When I was fresh out of college and working away from home for the first time, my Dad was diagnosed with melanoma. That was bad too.
I am happy to say that Mom’s strength and left side mobility and dexterity are returning. It is too slow for a woman accustomed to doing her own thing and not having to depend on the kindness of others. But her progress has been fantastic and I remind her as often as I can.
I was hopeful that our family was starting to catch a break when I got the news yesterday that my brother had to be hospitalized to have an emergency appendectomy. He is out of the hospital now, but that makes three members of my family (Dad, too, briefly) who have spent time in the hospital in the last four months.
I certainly hope the fickle finger of fate is moving on to the next family.
…
In answer to my first sentence – it is not spring.
After the sun set today and while the air was still warm, I walked out to the trashcan to throw away a holiday poinsettia that had lost most of its leaves.
Even though the temperature remained unseasonably warm, the air was still winter air. It smelled of rotting leaves. The breeze was mild, but not embracing. If it had been spring, the air would have been laced with the enticing scents of growing things and my skin would tingle with delight from the fragrant zephyr hug.
The faux spring day was nice, though. It was filled with promise and coupled with the promise of the new year, I feel cautiously optimistic.
Happy New Year, everyone!