Today’s rain and warm temperatures started the ice pooling in rivulets down the street. It seems like we’ve had snow on the ground since November. The snow berms have gotten so high that they’re blocking sightlines at major intersections.
Like most of us, I’ve got a touch of the plague that’s been going around, and a generous helping of the winter blahs. I’ve also been staying out of the kitchen. Nothing is inspiring, and I’m too exhausted to cook anyway. I’ve been propping myself up with decongestant and herbal tea. While running an errand to the post office today, under an disturbingly quiet, grey sky, I found myself craving sunlight and warmth like… well, like any New Englander would as we near the tail end of a particularly long, grey, wet winter.
Here’s how much I want the warmer temperatures to come: I’ve been craving fiddleheads, those wild-gathered mucilaginous ferns that pop up in the fields (and locavore restaurants) every year come spring. I don’t even like fiddleheads! They just taste like spring to me, bitter and earthy and hardy.
And baby greens! I have no great love for salads, but I’m ready to eat whatever peeks its leaves out of the ground first, just to taste spring.
Come on, come on… melt already.
What do you crave this time of year?
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