“Springtime.” It’s April 15th and it’s snowing. The Goodwill Store in Jamaica Plain is overrun with runners desperately buying layers for tomorrow’s marathon.
I almost bought a pair of dress pants that fit surprisingly well but instead went with half off red tagged baggy sweatpants as my disposable option. And I picked up a Spider-Man hat for $2. I walked out into a blowing hail of snow flurries having blown 10 bucks on a few things.
Seems like a reasonable hedge for probable snow, sleet, rain, and wind. It’s that last bit that’s such a killer. The mercury isn’t the problem; it’s the chill that comes from the wind. There’s a term for that phenomenon. It’s right on the tip of my tongue. Right on the frozen tip. A chill from wind… I know this. I do. Oh, yes. “Springtime in the Northeast.” How do people live here?
For now though my Spidey Sense is freezing…
***
I’m currently re-reading King Lear. This seems appropriate:
