It's all around you. The signs are everywhere. Hesitant green amid the cold earth. Breezes caress, no longer biting. A litany of high pitched trills - at every hour of the day. Sunlight now bathe worthy. The thunderous cracking of ice disrupting months of silent nature. Change has come.
It seems almost morbid of me to think so. Most I know take an optimistic stance wishing for the weather to stay on its current path. I scoff that their naive ideas - it's yet too early. I mourn the buds which have eagerly flourished with the loss of frost. I look to others and admonish, you'll regret putting the winter gear in storage. I know; I have experienced. It will not last.
It brings me to wondering, despite the evidence of years past, could I be misplacing my judgment? Am I really questioning the fate of the weather, or am I skeptic to more? Have I been looking at myself and doubting the assertions and conclusions I've made myself? Could they all be just as misleading and hope-crushing as a false spring?
It is unique that so many of us hold such an pleasant foreshadow with the weather, but when making or observing the personal changes around us, there is always a shock or disbelief and wonder at any success. Have we as humans faced such lapse in positive change that at the mention of a new resolution, doubt colors our thoughts despite any support we may vocalize?
It is not that I object to the rightful place of pessimism in this world. I merely wonder when the optimism leaked out of our sight. Could it be the gradual decay of our child-like naivete till we all end up the shriveled old men, yelling at the glimmer of happiness?
It would be a sadness - no a tragedy. For without change, it would be indeed a mad, mad world.
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