The Unexpected Life

I live in Ottawa and every single year, the entire city falls victim to false spring. After a long, cold, and snowy winter, temperatures finally peek above freezing and the sun shines for a couple of days in late March or early April. The snow melts, at least enough that hints of grass start poking through. Neighbourhoods come alive as people emerge from their winter hibernation and start to tune up bikes or pull the patio furniture out of storage. There is a notable shift in the general feeling around town –people are smiling more, with a little bounce in their step as they have finally shed the weight of winter parkas and snow boots.

And then, without fail, every single year, another snowstorm hits. The temperatures plummet again, the wind blows hard and with a frigid bite, snow falls in a blanket across the city. Everyone grumbles as they either pull out their winter gear again or, more commonly, suffer through the cold and wet with inappropriate gear in open defiance to Mother Nature. The people forced to be outside walking their dogs or waiting at bus stops exchange frustrated small talk bemoaning the loss of spring.

Every year, we all act surprised that spring has delayed its return to Ottawa.

We’ve just survived our “second winter” as it is known around here. We had a taste of spring and then got walloped with bitter winds and several inches of snow. Today, the sun is shining again and then temperatures are rising slowly above freezing. Hope is once again in the air.

But everyone is a little bit more tentative with their hope, saying things like “we’ll see if it sticks this time!”

This also happens every year. False spring brings with it unbridled hope that is then quickly dashed. And the whole city is once bitten, twice shy…not believing that this spring could actually turn into summer.

But I’ve noticed that my four year old is just as excited about the warm weather today as he was a couple of weeks ago when false spring was in full force. He believes temperatures will continue to rise. False spring did absolutely nothing to dampen his belief that summer will come. Second winter yesterday is not stopping him from enjoying the sweet spring air we’re breathing today.

Apart from being a reminder to me to actually enjoy this warm weather whether it sticks around or not, it is a reminder to me to not let the unpleasant experiences in life prevent me from enjoying the good.

How often in my life have I felt like I was coming out of a hard season or circumstance, light at the end of the tunnel, a glimpse of the beauty from ashes — only to be hit with another hard thing? And when the weight starts to lift again, I doubt the good that is to come?

How often do I let the fact that hard times sometimes come and go limit my enjoyment of the good right now? How often do I dwell on the bitterness of second winter and miss the sweetness of the spring air?