Everyone's happy about spring. Sun, birds, buds growing. And I'm just standing here thinking: what's so good about it? Mud up to your ankles, slush, freezing wind. That black snow melting, water everywhere. Nothing to be happy about.
Remember a couple months back? Light frost, like minus ten. Snow crunching under your feet, easy to breathe, you dress warm and it's fine. Best part — Friday night, the garages. Get together with the boys at my bay. Whip up something hot — mulled wine, maybe some brandy in it, or just strong tea with something extra. Sit around, shoot the shit, smoke coming out of our mouths like locomotives. Beautiful. Nobody's rushing, nobody's calling. Warm inside, cold outside waking you up. That contrast hits different.
And now? The garage is damp, you track in slush, everything's wet. Nowhere to sit properly. Snow's gone, just depressing. The guys are all home, some went to their dachas to dig up empty garden beds, some are gluing wallpaper.
Look, I get it, that's how nature works. Time to plant stuff, garden, all that. But honestly? This thaw — it looks nice from a distance. But really? It's just cold, wet crap.
Anyway, fellas, I don't know about you, but I miss those winter nights by the garages. There was something real about them. Spring is just chaos and mud.
Break out whatever hot drinks you've got left. While it's still not too warm, we gotta celebrate the last days of real comfort.
Life's good. Missing the snow.