Snow Birds' Return

There are those we know, retirees, who spend their winters "down south". They drive or fly to Arizona, New Mexico, California, or Hawaii to escape the cloudy, wet days that make up our winters here in the Pacific Northwest. Some in the Northeast go to Florida to avoid the snow and cold. Those who are younger, or still working, may take a cruise or mid-winter vacation to places of sun and warmth. It is to be expected; human climatic migrations are eons old. The grass is always greener - no, sunnier and warmer perhaps - than it is here. 

 

We are drawn to other places for what we perceive as a better climate, but also for a change of scene, an adventure, a look at the world outside of our usual domain that will increase our understanding. And, interestingly, if we go often and far enough, what we really discover is ourselves. For if we find the people here cool and unfriendly, those are the people we will find in New Mexico. If we are unmotivated, bored, and find little of interest here, California will be more of the same. Unusual and unseasonal heat, rain, snow, and storms are as likely to hit Arizona and Hawaii as they are anywhere else. Likewise, we will probably respond there in the same way we do here - by complaining about the weather...

If we know how to find contentment, yet stimulating challenges, within our everyday lives, then we will find these things wherever we are. If our life is full of adventure, we'll carry that with us. If we are grateful for what we have, refusing to constantly want for more and more, our travels will always be more about experiences than about things.

 

  

It really is, to some degree at least, all about how we view and adjust to our lives wherever we may be. Granted, some surroundings may please us more than others, but we all know people who seem to shine no matter their circumstances. We also know some who are never content, regardless of how well-off they may appear. And so getting away from it all to some other environment is more than a nice change of pace - it is a way to better discover who we really are.

 

 

Here in the Pacific Northwest, the Spring Peeper frogs are again filling the nights with their songs. There is a stirring in the land, a subtle warming and gradual advancement of daylight. Plant buds are swelling, birds are singing, insects are increasingly creeping about and those gentle rains sprinkle down on everything. The gardeners among us are tending to trees, planting new specimens, busily planning summer gardens; resurrection surrounds us.

 

 

No doubt, many "snow birds" we know will soon be returning here. Perhaps it is warming a bit too much for them where they've spent the winter, the climate does not look as good now as it did a few months ago, or they simply long or need to return home. Those of us who have remained here - for various reasons - will welcome them with open arms. For they are a part of our larger extended family and, if they are friends of ours, we already know who they really are. Rain or not - welcome home!
 

 

"I will send down showers in season;
there will be showers of blessing.

The trees of the field will yield their fruit
and the ground will yield its crops..."

Ezekiel 34:26-27