It has been a winter. The freezing temperatures, the pervasiveness of national and global tragedies, and the relentlessness of trying to stay positive. Yesterday I drove my sister to the airport. She had joked during her visit that she brought the sun. She wasn’t wrong, it was gorgeous during her stay. We walked together nearly every day and the trips to the playground with the girls were epic.


Then, after I headed back north, it began to snow—she’d taken the nice weather with her, it wold seem. I was incredulous. Ave was quiet beside me, engrossed in a game of Minecraft. I watched the flakes fall, some easily as big as half dollars. I drove twenty miles through the flurries and then they disappeared as if I’d driven through a tunnel. Later that day I ran to the grocery store and on my way home it snowed again.

I couldn’t help laughing as the flakes hit my face so hard they were almost audible. I marveled at how much it had shifted since that morning when we’d been trekking up the mountain just after dawn. I didn’t get mad, not because I am more calm or accepting than anyone else, but because April reminds me of myself.

April is supposed to be the start of spring; winter is behind us and it isn’t unreasonable to pull out the warmer clothing boxes that we stored so many months ago. Here I am, a few months shy of 42. I have a daughter with whom I am more and more frequently discussing menstruation and mood swings and a face that stares back at me in the mirror that is a medley of who I was and who I am becoming.
I carry a grudge and I let things go. I aspire for great things and make peace with certain inevitability. I belt along to some pop songs and others make me fear for our society.
I don’t want to be a clear summer day or a snowy winter morning, I want to live inside the wilds of April, one minute a whoosh of hope and possibility, the next a clash that reminds you how little we all are.
I should think that the month of April behaving would be a very sad thing indeed. She is the month that reminds us that we live within a crucible of easy and hard, and that in weathering the contradiction we discover the irresistible, smooth waves that can only come from extremes.
I am as excited as the next person about the days when the sun’s kiss is so potent it chases us to shade, but I’m ok with a few more trips to the garage for firewood and a few more turns in the night sidled up close to Sean to draw warmth from his body.
It’s April and what happens next is anyone’s guess.
This is lovely.
xo
This is really lovely.
I love it when you comment, Sarah. I so respect and cherish your praise.
I love this post and I love that you really capture April. I think I’m inherently drawn to Spring and Fall because they mark transitions. I am constantly surprised and awed by the weather around me. I feel like I have moments to prepare, to reflect, and to just be myself which is always a little of both worlds (the cold and the warm). I also love being able to wake up an be surprised by the weather. I am on spring break and this week has been unusually cold for California (we actually had a bit of a heat wave right before break). And then on Tuesday, there was a rush of rain. And now the weather is calm, somewhat cloudy, and chilly. It’s refreshingly simple and unexpected. Truly beautiful.
I think you nail the gift of being alive in your last few words:
It’s refreshingly simple and unexpected. Truly beautiful.
Thank you.
I have a whole new appreciation for April now. Thanks you. That being said, if it starts snowing out today, I’m letting the curse words fly (even more than usual).
I haven’t been reading blogs lately and I have so missed your words. This is gorgeous. I loved this: a face that stares back at me in the mirror that is a medley of who I was and who I am becoming.
Yes. Thank you. I turned 42 a few months ago, and this is how I feel everyday but couldn’t describe.
You and your sister are lovely. I love the top photo too!