Some of you may not be aware of this, but in the past I have had a tendency to complain about the weather. A month or so ago, I made a solemn promise to stop complaining. According to my definition of complaining, I’ve done a stellar job of keeping my promise.
From now until mid-November, keeping the promise will be easy since winter is on it’s way out, at least along my gravel road. For the past few days the temperatures have been in the fifties and sixties. The glacier that has covered our lane is shrinking by the hour. In fact, for the past three mornings I’ve been able to mince my way down the glacier to walk on the gravel road. Once I reached the bottom of the lane this morning, I took a picture. I may send it to National Geographic. They love intrepid explorers who brave threatening ice packs to take pictures at the of the mouths of glaciers.
Since the mouth of our glacier ends at the our gravel road instead of at some picturesque ocean bay, my picture shows more squishy mud than stunning blue ice. There’s a chance National Geographic will turn me down. But I don’t care. I can handle it.
After all what do ruts in the road and rejections from editors matter at this time of year? Spring is coming and that’s more than enough.
Pretty good job of not complaining, don’t you think?
