My mother named me after a character in her very favorite novel, Come Spring, by Ben Ames if I remember correctly. The story about three generations of colonists who settle in what is now Maine just prior to the Revolution, is long out of print. Yet, each female member of my family cherishes one of the few remaining copies.
The book is long. Close to 700 pages - at it ain't a page turner or supermarket romance.
While I have not read the entire book, each time the weather turns at this point of the year, I am reminded of it - particularly the dialog on the very last page:
"We'll be fine come spring."
While I did not experience famine as early colonists in Maine did during the last winter chronicled in this book, the past couple of New England winters have been difficult. It is easy to become a hermit, maybe even get a little depressed. For me, the winter of 2003/2004 will be marked by boredom brought by my unwillingness to try anything really different. I'll remember it as a time when everything was good, but artificially unable to take a risk, wasn't great.
Spring in New England is a misnomer. However, by the end of March, regardless of how trying the past couple of months have been, the sky remains fully bright long after I've left the office - even thought the weather may remind that winter is still a possibility. The world begins to change, reminding that you can change too.
After a long borning winter, everything will be fine come spring.
