An annual ritual

It was the first really nice day today. Honestly. Something like 56 degrees today. Snow melt and water runoff like crazy.

An odd, annual phenomenon happens on this day.

Minnesotans wake up.

We stumble out of wherever we've been, and with our eyes squinting in the bright sun, we stumble around, suddenly breathing in air that is not so frosted that it is devoid of any smell. It's as if we are being born, stepping outside for the first time again...dazed and confused.

I think it's partly the warmth. We aren't used to it. We step outside and then stand...and stand...startled by the fact that the hair in our noses isn't freezing. And so we go back inside and change jackets. We do this a couple of times until we find one that fits the temparature.

In the meantime, it's also the brightness that surprises us. We start fishing around for sunglasses.

We walk around the neighborhood, looking like it's our first experience with a walk.

We walk through the snow runoff/water that is running down the curb to the storm sewer. The ice that edges these curbs cracks under our feet when we step on it with a really satisfying "crunch," as if we are then personally responsible for the ending of spring by stomping on winter.

We run into neighbors and ask "Hey, how have you been?" Only people with the same winter experience know that we're really asking "how have you been since the last time I saw you...in early November."

In Minnesota, Good Friday lasts 5 months long. Today was an Easter.

It reminds me of the startledness and surprise disciples might have experienced when they realized the resurrection actually might have happened.

Dazed. Confused. Puzzled.

Joyous.