not spring yet
once, in our twenties, my husband and i spent three months of winter in french polynesia, from mid-december through mid-march. we planned to come back in march because, hey, march is sort of like spring, right? we arrived at msp airport tanned and thin and beautiful, and then we stepped outside to get a cab and looked around ourselves in disbelief. i actually think we might have been wearing tank tops. there were snowdrifts everywhere, it was below freezing, and the air was so dry it was as if we could see our skin retracting, cracking and splitting, like desert floor over the course of a prolonged drought. march, we concluded, as we drove home under gray skies, past highway embankments piled with gray snow, is not spring. march, in minnesota, is still winter.
morning frost on prairie grass