We are a mitt and a finger curling from the left just over Wisconsin. It almost looks like a trigger, but we have no bullets, only cartridges of snow that come across the water. That the snow should become more icy and water-logged as it travels over one of the big five is understandable. We call it Lake Effect.It also means unpredictable weather. It also means that my friends from other states where it is mostly warm (you know who you are, Texans) will moan and look at me dejectedly like a dog that's had its hindquarters swatted. "It is April," they say. "Why is it still snowing?"
I have no choice but to tell them God hates us.
But finally some good news. This is living in Michigan. The blossoms on the tree outside my window are opening pink and violet. The gardens in Kalamazoo are unfurling. It is almost May and it is almost warm.
I am almost smiling, but I know to wait, to repress it slightly, to not be fooled until I can be sure that it is time to leave the windows open and lay out yesterday's clothes for airing in a steady sun.
2 comments:
I miss Michigan. I hate not being able to go up to Sleeping Bear this summer. I hate not seeing sunsets after a day of sunning and drinking. Michigan will always be my home.
When I moved out to Iowa, I noticed words they use out here that they don't use in Michigan, like Prarie. In turn, I don't hear the term 'Lake Effect' out here (because there are no lakes).
I'm sure Oregon will have its own terminology that I will have to get used to. Rain, Fog, Mountain, Forest. We'll see what happens.
I, too, miss Michigan, and perhaps surprisingly, Kalamazoo. I found "Lake Effect" quite poetic. It goes without saying, we have nothing like it (or maybe yes--Desert Effect) in New Mexico.
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