Flyover People Daily News

Today’s Flyover People column as seen in The Emporia Gazette:

CLAMORING FOR COLOR

The sunroof isn’t working these days. I keep pushing the open button, but there’s no sun, no blue sky.

For months we’ve had a smear of white-gray above us, a dreary monologue of clouds.

Sure, gray happens this time of year, but during a normal Kansas winter, January and February traditionally offer up an abundance of bitterly blue skies. This year, no blue.

The grayness is not just in the sky – the whole world is in bleak mode: dead grass, empty fields, leafless trees.

Usually I’m the canary in the coal mine when it comes to light issues, but this winter everyone seems to feel smothered by the gloom. Grocery store clerks mention the cloak of clouds, as do people on the streets and friends on Facebook.

I can’t help but think that somewhere there’s a Sunshine Now gismo and all we have to do is locate this machine and plunk in some quarters to get the clouds to disperse. Hey, I don’t know about anyone else here, but I’m about to the point of chewing on crayons to get some color into my system.

Right now, I spend more time than necessary in the produce aisle at Reeble’s, letting my eyes rest on the rainbow of vegetables: green, red and orange peppers, cilantro, eggplant, carrots, yellow squash.

Nothing against vegetables in the supermarket, but I’d prefer to see my color live on the land: that unexpected purple crocus, a smile of yellow daffodils, a shout from the red tulips.

Ah, remember Bradford pear trees – the white polka dots of blossoms that dance against the blue backdrop of sky? Remember the screaming purple-pink of redbud trees? Remember how grass turns as green as green can be, and that trees bear leaves? Yeah, sign me up for that.

On a snowy Saturday morning in February, I spent some time in the coffee shop, Java Cat-5. I sat near the front window trying to absorb some light and energy from the lifeless sky. Large wet snowflakes fell and dissolved on impact.

The American flag at the post office added a bit of color, but the flag just doesn’t have the same punch as it does when displayed against the brilliant blue Kansas sky. Red cars drove past, but that shiny red was mottled with mud.

In a corner of the coffee shop sat a band of knitters, sharing tips and knowledge as their needles clicked. I’m not a knitter, but it seems that knitting is a winter sport – the project warms your lap even as you are making something that will provide warmth later on – a hat, a scarf, a sweater.

“You’re going to do something called yarn-over,” one knitter showed another. “What you have to remember is that you’re adding stitches, so you have to compensate. Slip, slip, knit.”

We are adding days, even if it seems that the calendar has slipped and is running in place on the treadmill. Days and weeks slide past us, but it doesn’t feel as if we were moving forward. Instead, we are stuck in winter with that grisly old groundhog.

But now, halleluiah, March has arrived. And with spring, our rainy season, we’re certainly not guaranteed blue skies, but at least we can watch the red line in the thermometer rise.

Before you know it, we’ll be taking walks with friends after supper, planting tiny lettuce seeds in the ground, hitting the yard sales and picking through the treasures that have been hidden away in other people’s closets, basements and garages.

I think it’s safe to say that we’ve worn the fun out of winter this year. Or maybe, it’s worn us out, pushed us to boredom with its blandness.

We’re ready for a new season. We want to smell the freshly-turned earth, see worms squiggle away into the black soil, inhale the sweet fragrance of hyacinths and lilacs once more. We’re eager to see flowers splash across our line of vision.

During these months of huddling inside our homes, we’ve been like the bulbs buried underground, waiting for the sun to pull us out into the world.

Hurry up, spring, set us free – and send us some color, would ya? ‘Cause these crayons may be pretty, but their wax is sticking to my teeth.

Copyright 2010 Cheryl Unruh

This is what spring will look like when it gets here.

Green! Blue! Warm!

Cheryl columns, sky, weather