I do like spring. It’s right up there with fall in terms of my favorite seasons. I love the flowers that spring brings. The problem with spring has always been determining her exact arrival date. There have been years when she hasn’t shown up until well into April. I always cross my fingers and hope that she will appear in early March, but that is often wishful thinking.

My college students were duped by Miss Spring very recently. We had a few days of balmy temperatures, and my dear educated students showed up wearing shorts and flip-flops to class. “You silly children,” I told them, “Miss Spring doesn’t show up in February!” They were insistent that the groundhog had determined that she would appear early this year. But I knew better, I have much more experience with the fickle girl!

For many years, my son and I have ventured to Florida for a few days to catch some baseball spring training. Spring has definitely shown her face to Floridians by March. I feel a bit of guilt as I pack my shorts and short-sleeve shirts for our trip. I know that my friends and colleagues will be sporting heavy sweaters, coats and hats while I venture south. I sit in the sun during those games and practices. I bask in the glory of sunny skies and warm temperatures.

But I know deep down that it’s only temporary. When I board the plane to head back north, I am uncertain about what kind of weather will face me when I exit the airport. It’s usually in the airport that I change from shorts to more appropriate clothes. Sometimes I even have to scrape ice or snow from my car when I finally get there.

One year, we got stuck in Atlanta on March 18th. The reason for the sudden stop in our travels: massive snow storm in the northeast. In March! Surely Miss Spring was enjoying her time in Florida too much to head north. Desperate to get home, my son and I flew into Raleigh, North Carolina, rented a car and drove the rest of the way home. We left any hint of spring once we crossed the state line into Virginia.

I realize that our dear friend in Punxsutawney indicated that we would see spring early this year, but as the first of March is rapidly approaching, I am fearful that once again she will take her time getting here. However, the optimistic me did order twenty-five bags of mulch to be delivered the second weekend in March. You never know, she might indeed decide to surprise us!