Even for me, who thinks four-seasons worship is hooey at best, the last two days have been a bit much.
Don’t get me wrong; I’ll absolutely take 70-plus degrees in February, especially since the average high in Boston typically doesn’t hit 70 until the end of May.
Still, it’s a bit much.
Of course, it’s going to go away. By tomorrow, it will just be a memory. That’s not me being a fatalist; it’s called being February.
But it does leave me wondering — is weather like we’ve seen the last couple days a taste of glorious days to come, or a cruel tease of something we may not see again for months?
To mangle Tennyson, is it better to have had great winter weather and lost than to never have great winter weather at all?
I’m honestly not sure, but I wouldn’t mind further instances to perhaps hone my thinking.