Driving Into Spring

I really would like to know how in the world people came to base season change on a small rodent. It must have taken years of careful observation coupled with, and I'm pretty sure about this, plenty of ethanol. To make the leap of faith, and to practice it yearly, that a groundhog seeing its shadow or not will dictate the arrival of spring is completely fascinating in a disgusting sort of way. (Plus, if you've ever watched the video, I'm pretty sure the whole thing is rigged, further negating any hold in reality.)

I know that there are those who enjoy the winter wonderland (the Wife being at the top of that list). They see pictures like this and think, "It's so beautiful." I look at this shot of a path near my backyard and all I can see is a world that has had its color removed and replaced with white and gray. It's like taking a talented artist, maybe the pbs guy named Bob Ross, and asked them to paint a couple of happy little trees. But, in a cruel joke, they gave Ross only white, black, and gray paint. I suppose I don't actually hate looking at the snow but my world dictates that I must interact with said substance.

It's right around this time of year, in case you haven't noticed, when I loathe living in the northeastern end of the country. Spring will NEVER arrive early. At this point, I'm pessimistic that it will arrive at all. But, like any semi-intelligent bloke, I took matters into my own hands. Since spring won't come to me, I'll go to spring.

So I packed up the Wife and dogs and headed south. For those of you who didn't know, there is a semi-inverse relationship between latitude and temperature. As a rule of thumb, not dogma, the lower the latitude the higher the temperature. I live at around 45º north latitude. The Banter-in-Law lives at around 35º latitude. As I said, the relationship is only semi-inverse. Back home, the temps were in the 20's. Upon arriving in central nowhere, AKA Oklahoma, the mercury had to the mid 40's.

The above shot is a pretty good representation of the entire state. As you can see, there is absolutely no snow on the ground. The white/ black/ gray has been completely replaced by the representative colors of brown and red. I haven't checked in to it, but I'm pretty sure those are the official state colors, mostly because there aren't any other colors available. (Aside: Rumor has it that just I missed a big snowstorm than pummeled the locals and delivered a good 3/4 of an inch. Shut the city down for 12 days and some people had to ration supplies because they were caught off guard by the heinous precipitation. The National Guard was leaving the state as we drove in. End aside.)

Further analysis of the picture will reveal the extremely low water levels in what passes for a 'lake' around here. Obviously the BIL's neighborhood planning committee was not composed of triathletes or they would have better removed the tree stumps from the 'lake' bed and made it available for swimming. No such luck. In the background, you can see that the state's representative colors are worked directly into the brick construction. Almost all of the homes celebrate the brown and red motif. In the foreground of the shot, you can clearly see that I am a horrible photographer who cannot remove his finger from the frame, thus negating any criticism I may have about the landscape.

You will also notice the lack of any deciduous trees or forests, further angering the spirit of Bob Ross. This fact continues for miles and miles through Texas down to the Gulf. Wind speeds and gusts have nothing but a couple of rogue cows to slow the circulating air.

I am not complaining about any of this. Upon arriving into Sooner country, I said my hello's and promptly went for a run. Remember, this is Lent season and the 20 hour drive was non-conducive to Lenting. The thermometer said 43º at 9:00 pm. I put on my shorts and did a 4 mile jaunt in relative comfort. I had stepped out of the car into a different state. And into a different season. I had arrived in spring.