A lot of people talk about the winter blues.
The winter blues are what come upon us during the long, cold and dark winters Canada is typically known for. It's a feeling of melancholy and depression as we yearn for the warmth of summer and the joy of spring.
I've never really had trouble with the winter blues, but I do have trouble with the spring greys, as I've taken to calling them. That time of year between winter and the true start of spring, where the snow has melted but the plant life is still dead, drab and, well, grey.
It's those days where the weather isn't as cold as winter, granted, but aren't quite warm enough to be comfortable. When skies are overcast and the entire world seems more akin to a charcoal drawing than a pastoral landscape.
For me, that's harder than winter. Sure, the winter months here are cold and dark, but there is a certain stark beauty to the landscapes the snow creates. As a journalist, it's a beautiful time to get pictures of children sledding, adults skiing or snowmobiling and animals braving the cold. Even if I don't personally much care for outdoor winter activities, I can take joy in watching and documenting others enjoying them.
However, during those few weeks to a month between when the last of the snow melts, but before the first trees begin to bud, I'm left feeling somewhat listless. It's ALMOST nice enough to go outside, but not quite nice enough. The landscape has yet to take on the beautiful green of true spring and summer, and dust from the sand put down in the winter clogs the air. It's a state of purgatory, in its own way.
Yet, for all my moaning, it is also a sign of things to come. Ice melts from the lakes, attracting waterfowl and birds from down south. Trees begin to come out of their dormancy and begin the slow process of budding. Crews get to work cleaning the roads of the grit and sand while gardeners prune away the dead growth from last year. It's all part of the natural cycle of the seasons.
I suppose, in a way, the spring greys are just simply anxiety on my part as I eagerly await the final transition to spring and then my beloved summer. Impatience for the world to get on with becoming green and beautiful again. Hope for another year of lazy days by the water and walks down to Centennial Park.
All of this is to say, I'm looking forward to seeing a little colour come back to the South Cariboo. With Easter now finally past us, I reckon my spring greys will be forgotten... until next year, that is.
That, however, is 2026 Patrick's problem. In the meantime, here's to sunny days full of colour and adventure!
