Angela Jamison is a native Montanan and she grew up in beautiful Bozeman. I'm the mother of two girls and write a blog about our life here and taking in the simple pleasures of family and food. http://www.rdeliciouslife.blogspot.com/
There is this "Portlandia" episode I was thinking about today. (Portlandia is a hilarious sketch comedy about Portland, OR) In this skit the sun peaks out through the dark, ominous skies and the people of Portland all run for this sliver of sunshine, pull out lawn chairs and picnic blankets. Crack open a beer and all smile, saying "The sun, is out!" Within moments the clouds cover the sun, the crowd packs up their things and mope away. And then the sun peaks back out and the cheers return. This goes back and forth for awhile, you get the point. Having lived in Portland briefly I understand this…the sunshine did not often make appearances. It reminded me of how Montanans have a similar experience with spring. Not the sunshine part. No, we are lucky, it may be 30-degrees below zero and we still get a blue bird day. But, with spring? Spring time we search out for after the long winter hibernation. This week the temperatures have creeped towards the 50's and you can see everyone's spirits visibly lift. When it actually hits 50-degrees people will be pulling out the shorts and flip flops. Yea, we go a little crazy here for spring. But who can blame us after months of cold and snow?
This winter has been long, bitter cold and snowy. I hear my fathers voice in my head when I tell people "It reminds me of the type of winters we had when I was a kid." But it's true. The last few winters have been mild and dry compared to this. Even my die hard ski friends are over it. It is the topic of conversation everywhere and I do believe everyone is over talking about it too. Which is why when these first hints of spring come it is as if the clouds have parted and we all lift our faces to the sky and smile…knowing the end is in sight. The snow is melting, the birds are chirping. Grass is poking its way out of the snow searching for a piece of sun and breathing after being buried. You notice people around you are smiling a bit bigger and the "morning" you get while out for a run is a little more enthusiastic. And, my personal favorite…the "M" is beginning to show on the Bridgers. Just a hint of it from under the melting white. When the snow has left the Bridgers that is when I know. When I know it is time for the skiers to leave the mountains and make way for the rest of us to enjoy them in our way. It is our turn to hear them calling early in the morning and to answer eagerly. It's around this time of year I start to ache to get into my mountains. I can close my eyes and imagine myself on the top of them, breathing in warm mountain air, smelling the pine trees around me and feeling the sun kiss my face.
I have lived here long enough to know these hints are only teasers. Spring in Montana is like that. Flirting with us and the ideas of what's to come and then blasting us with a cold front and dumping snow. Crushing our spring loving spirits and like the "Portlandia" episode, we mope away, shoulders slumped. Reminding us that playing in the mountains is still months away. Telling us to put those flip flops away, there is no place for those until June. This is okay. It's okay because where else do people appreciate a 45-degree day? Only in Montana. We get the importance of getting out and taking advantage of those slivers of spring-like days because they won't last. I think it makes us all much more grateful for the nice days we have and gratitude is an awesome trait for a state to have. And, don't get me started on summer. Nobody does summer like a Montanan. Well, except maybe if you live in Portland.