A Letter to Spring

Dear Spring,

According to my very colorful assignment book, it is April, and it has been for almost a week.  This means that we should be solidly in spring. Easter has come and past, and I’m ready for sunshine, no snow, and more sunshine.

So Spring, I’m wondering where you are. I’ve seen a few hints, some Canada geese in the cornfields on the way to Pawtuckaway and cardinals in several trees, but I can't say I’m seeing the springtime results I’m hoping for.  However, between you and me, I think we can work something out.

First off, let's discuss the snow. Postholing to above my knees while walking between boulder problems increases sock dampness and decreases psych significantly. Also, it makes my crash pad wet, missing the crash pad a damp, chilly mishap, and keeping my shoes dry nearly impossible. I’d like the snow to leave. Please pick Pawtuckaway as your first destination for this to happen.

Now can we please discuss the weather in general? It does not need to ever go below 40 degrees Fahrenheit in April, 50 degrees in May, or 60 degrees in June. And then there is the rain. I know that “April showers bring May flowers.” I like flowers. Even more than that, I like that the rain helps melt the snow. However, could we pick a better time than every weekend to have it rain? Sunday nights are perfect along with Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday nights. If you have to schedule rain during the day, please make it one of those three weekdays as well. Then, if it’s not too much to ask, please make Thursday and Friday morning sunny and windy to dry off all the rocks for climbing Friday afternoon through Sunday evening.

Now, about the sun: I’ve missed it. Please make climbing sunny on the weekends—and on the days already discussed above—and any other day you feel like banning clouds. Collectively, New England has the winter blues, and you, dear Spring, have the power to stop the current “SAD” epidemic. I'd love to think of March and April as more than just mud season and dirty snow covered in microscopic black bugs.

Overall, I’m psyched. I’m ready for winter and all the cold and white that goes along with it to be gone. Even more than that, I’m ready to climb. Real rocks. Outside. Sure I’ll be outside whether its cloudy and 35 degrees or sunny and 55, but there is a 746.89 percent chance that I’ll climb 356 percent harder for 673 percent longer and put my climbing shoes on 4.37 times as often if it’s the latter.  So Spring, I’ve missed you, and I’ve missed feeling my feet while climbing outside. Please pay New England a visit.

Yours,

Liz