All things being equal

Day and night have come back into balance, as they do twice each year, but no one who has spent a winter in the North Country actually expects spring to begin just because the calendar says so. Still, each new inch that falls after the equinox is a cause for special grievance, particularly when the winter has lived up to the tall tales we like to tell new residents. I'd been keeping an eye on the massive overhang of ice that shadowed the north side of the living room, and sure enough, it let go yesterday, taking out a second storm window. I lost the first when trying to preempt the fall by whacking the build-up loose with a steel pipe. All things being equal, this time I just moved the easy chair a little farther into the room away from ground zero. I'd hate to be decapitated while watching The Daily Show.

What can you do except tough it out? I've never known prayer to make the lilacs bloom one day sooner. The extra light helps a little, but raises expectations doomed to be dashed. There are strawberries in the store, but they are no sweeter (nor softer) than turnips. All things being equal, I'll stick to preserves until the local crop is in. I can already taste it on the tongue of my brain. Spring hopes eternal.