Minnows in the Snow

Today was a tease. It was sunny all day. I took an hour-long walk down to the river. There were more people out walking today than I have seen out all winter long. And dogs. So many dogs with their owners. It's as if the thaw of the day released them from their homes, and they all came out to walk the path that was once so familiar to them in the warmer season.

Yet, as I walked along, smiling, nodding, saying my hellos to the suddenly cheerful people, I was reminded of the truth of this month. That it is still Winter. That March is waiting, just around the corner of the week, to come in like a lion and gorge itself on the tasty lamb. The frozen river was dotted with ice fishers. Snowmobilers raced up and down the icy freeway. "The Hill" still had enough snow to entertain the dozen or so children running up and sliding down.

Oh, yes, Winter, today was your flirtation with us poor northerners. Lifting your skirt just enough for us to see dainty petticoats of green grass. But, just like in the cartoons, there's a bear-jaw trap waiting there, should we reach out with our ungloved hands to touch you. Step onto the grass as though it were time to run barefoot through the daisies, and we'll find ourselves frozen into the mud. Let our minds relax into believing this sun could actually warm any portion of bare skin we expose to it, and the next day, I know, we'll find ourselves reddened and frostbitten. You are a tease, oh February Winter, and we are your bait, like minnows in the snow.