Dodo Eggs

Spring Break works its way up the calendar and the Southerners I live amongst make quick tracks toward the nearest shoreline.  In theory, it’s more than just a break from hustle and bustle.  As the name implies, it’s also a sign that winter’s harsh siege has been lifted and the beautiful outdoors is awakening from dormancy. 

My question is this…Have they earned a Spring Break?

Every now and then, snow and its wicked sibling, ice, wander through Middle Tennessee and other places just south of the Mason-Dixon Line.  The snow never stays more than a day or two.  Small pockets persist only in ditches and other heavily shaded areas, but on roads and lawns the snow’s persistence is measured in hours not days.

It just doesn’t stay very cold for very long.  In my closet is an expensive, heavy winter coat I’ve had for at least seven years.  It still looks brand new!  I’ve worn it three times!  If I were still living in North Dakota, the coat would be a different shade with a broken zipper.  People in the South flock to a grocery store the second after the weatherman uses the words snow and accumulation in the same sentence. 

I’ll ask again…Have Southerners earned a Spring Break?

My last winter in Dakota was also my first year of college.  I would wake up in the morning, shower, and make a hurried scurry to my car.  (Which was as cold as the outside temperature just without the wind.)  Once the engine rolled over and I began driving, I could reach up run my fingers across the bed of frozen needles my hair had become!  My hair would begin to freeze on the way to my car!

Yea, maybe Southerners should just call it “Was That It?” Break.

Here’s another cautionary tale from my final winter in Dakota.  One night a blizzard rolled through Western Dakota with snow falling thick enough to make buffalo wince.  It fell so fast you couldn’t see more than twenty feet in front of you.

Of course there was fun to be had with snow piling up on the roads and everyone with intelligence tucked inside their homes.  My friend and I took his dad’s pick up truck and went on a bit of a joy ride near the high school.

No one else was out so we gunned through the fast building snowdrifts.  With every muffled THUMP, a cascade of snow flew up from the bottom of the windshield completely blinding us.  We gunned it anyway. 

Then something strange happened.  With temperatures sunk near negative twenty, the engine began OVERHEATING.  We brought our vehicle to a standstill and climbed out to diagnose the problem.  Snow was packing the grill, melting, then quickly refreezing forming a thick hybrid of snow and ice, which choked off air from the radiator.  We spent the next half hour trying to open the grill again before the drifts grew high enough to trap us.

When a southerner expresses pleasure at the end of winter, I’m forced to smile.  They really have no idea.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW MORE ABOUT DAKOTA WINTERS?  COME BACK WEDNESDAY.

• Winter Holiday
• Frozen Pies
• The Doctor is…
• Failing Parents
• An Icy Hug (10)