"It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade." - Charles Dickens
Overall, it's been a mild winter. The weather has been strange all over the place, but despite Dr. Don Easterbrook's declaration of global cooling, Michigan's had one of it's warmest winters yet. That is, until March first. Northern Michigan found itself under 20 inches of wet snow overnight, and the power lines had fallen with it. Without electricity for four days, we survived off of our wood-burning stove and melted snow for water, playing card games by candlelight. But after rescuing two stranded cars, having to move all of the food from the refrigerator to the barn, and throwing out all our backs shoveling snow, winter got old. Fast.
Interestingly, the ancient Hebrew cycle of seven Biblical holidays is structured with three feasts in the fall and four feasts in the spring. Conspicuously missing are any feasts in either the summer or winter. These are the dry spells; the long stretches of burning heat or feet of snow. Representing and commemorating historic and futuristic events, one can map out one "year" of Biblical feasts and dry spells over the entire history of the world with each grouping of feasts roughly denoting the time period in which the intent of the feasts were fulfilled. The spring feasts listed in the Bible, Passover, Unleavened Bread, First Fruits, and Pentecost, were fulfilled in the life of Jesus and his disciples in the first century, putting an end to the long winter that stretched from the (somewhat ironic) "Fall" of mankind to Christ's birth. This millennia-long winter, as history tells us, was much worse than any comparison with Michigan's winter this season. The wars and disasters of those past centuries were power outages that lasted for years.
The first century is long gone, and the world has been plunged into the second long dry spell that reflects summer. We are awaiting the fulfillment of the fall feasts at the second coming of Christ.
But stepping away from the big picture, I'm still watching our five foot snow drifts melt away as we simultaneously drift into this weird transitory season we call spring. But maybe it's not as transitory as we thought. Maybe, on that grander scale, it represents not the transition but the objective. Perhaps winter and summer are the transitory seasons, and spring and fall are the seasons to look forward to. Either way, I'll be glad when this winter is over for good.
In any case, here's a couple black and white shots from the past few days.