Ever feel like you’re standing on ice so thin that the very ground beneath you is melting away before your eyes? Well, trust me – You’re not alone.
So shortly after winter’s impressive last stand, nary a full square foot of snow remains to show for it. The general reaction is of relief, a feeling that I can appreciate as well, especially when the thermometer can now boast more impressive readings than just barely double-digits. Everyone has already begun to plan for summer gardens, stocking up on seeds and bulbs, planning out their planting strategies, all too eager to just move on. On the other hand, this chilly fellow would beg to differ. How short and disappointing this season was for him! Warm temperatures stretched well into December and January, with a pathetic excuse for snow, more easily mistaken for a mild case of dandruff than a meteorological occurrence. Now, just as he began to feel at home, back in his element, spring is waiting around the corner, waiting to ambush him and chase him out of town. Slightly more than a week remains before the seasons official pass the baton and trade off, so what’s a penguin to do?
I suppose it’s a good thing that I’m not a penguin myself, because I have no idea. There’s no place that is naturally cold all year round, aside from the freezer. While it had been inhabited briefly by a similar creature, at this point there’s no way I would be able to fit another box of frozen waffles in there, let alone a small creature. Wondering how to handle this dilemma, my arctic friend and I chatted a good deal, revealing a few curious details. Apparently, he was so totally lost due to a simple miscommunication – In buying his plane ticket to Alaska for some rest and relaxation, they somehow mixed up his reservations, sending him here instead. Sure, he knew that he was headed for the wrong destination entirely, but they wouldn’t give him a refund regardless of how he begged, so any vacation is still a vacation, right? You know how it is, I’m sure.
Upon arrival, the climate seemed agreeable enough, but little did he know how it would change, slowly but surely, until it was torture to walk down the street. Now he was desperate for an out, but after losing his ticket necessary to return, he was beginning to lose hope. How was he to fly home on those useless wings, and without the help of the modern marvel that allows even humans fly?
Luckily, I happened to have a hard-working family member who traveled far and wide for his estimable job. Surely he would stop someplace cold, if not the arctic itself. After hearing the omnipresent threat of even warmer temperatures, my penguin friend hastily agreed to tag along, reasoning that any place would be better than here at this point.
And while the melting ice doesn’t bother me so deeply, the rainy, clammy weather that is entering the picture in its place tempts me to agree with him.