Hard to believe March is already on its way. We’ve been lucky with a very mild winter. I’ve enjoyed not digging out of snow every other day. More days running outside and away from the dreaded treadmill has been even better.
As much as I hate winter and complain about the snow, I need the season of winter. Winter makes spring and summer better than they would be alone. The changes through fall, the seasonability of fruit and vegetables, I’d miss those if I lived in a winter-less state. Winter means variety.
More than that, I think winter is one of the intangibles that helps define Cleveland. Ours may not be the worst winter in America, but we get our share.
While living in Columbus, I laughed when two inches of snow fell and drove the area crazy. Local news went on Snow Alert and every school closed down. Two inches here? Hardly enough to bother cleaning off the car.
Something in the harsh wind that cuts through layers of clothes and the miserable sunless days adds to our character. It makes us tougher. Having survived blizzards becomes a badge of honor and the stories pass on like legends. “Back in January of ’78…”
I may suffer in the cold, grumble about winter lasting forever, and despise the darkest stretch of winter, but without it, I wouldn’t be the same. Cleveland wouldn’t be the same. It is in the blood.
Good with the bad. The cycles of change.