Move on over

Dear Old Man Winter,

I love you and the weight of the snow you bring to my doorstep each year. I love the silence that accompanies your stay in the twelfth month. I love the blanket of beauty you lay down for my eyes to delight in and my soul to ponder. Even before the snow settles in it's resting place, you provide a show, under every street light and clung to each branch of the trees outside my windows. So yes, Old Man, I love you.

You know as well as I do that your stay this year has been longer than necessary. Plain and simple, you've overstayed your welcome and it's time for you to move over and give your seat to the sweet lady of spring. I spoke with her this morning and although she too has an affinity for you, her feet are growing tired of standing in that aisle waiting for you to be the gentlemen we all know you are and give up your seat.

Lady Spring is growing rather impatient with your "winter weather advisories" and "winter storm warnings" and I must admit that I share her sentiment. She's waiting with sunshine and green grass dripping from her pockets and the baby birds she's carrying are getting restless and are need to log some flight hours before they will be able to fully enjoy summer. My wings are in need of stretching as well; in need of the ability to walk out my front door and fall into soft, supple grass that will make me itchy from head to toe in a matter of seconds. My wings are in need of a good campsite, a long night around the fire and the ability to breath in the scent of something other than street salt.

So what will it be, Old Man? With all the love in my heart I beg you, give it up. Have a great spring and summer and I'll see you next year.

All my love,

LizzyB