Relative Something

You know that almost uncontrollable and usually insatiable urge to pop bubble wrap? I suggest that whatever drives that urge also drives our compulsion to break overnight ice this time of year. The fact that the action can often sound like breaking glass, but happens without the pesky need to meticulously clean up every last shard, probably contributes to the attraction.

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With childlike glee we stomp our way along the driveway, unleashing faux carnage against the aging ice that shatters with each strike.

We can thank the wild swings of temperature for the excellent ice-breaking conditions we have been enjoying lately. This morning it was a mere 1°F outside and felt every bit as bone-chilling cold as below-zero days can feel. I suspect our bodies are already down the path of adjusting to springtime weather. Certainly, our minds have already made that leap.

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In the fields, the snowpack is morphing into an artistic archipelago of grass and snow. The firmly frozen surface now frees us to wander away from the usual paths so we can explore the surroundings at will.

But really, as fun as that is to be able to do, it doesn’t hold a candle to the unmitigated glee of smashing old ice to bits.

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