Momma Nature winning the game

Mother Nature and I are having a battle these days.

And of course, I’m losing.

I have always prided myself on knowing that Mother Nature will always win the war, even though I may win a battle or two along the way.

If we screw up this planet enough, Mother Nature will just let us wipe ourselves out and hope the next incarnation does a better job in stewardship than we did.

But the current battle is of short duration, nothing so colossal as global climate change or sea level rise. It’s all about the cold right now.

I’ve been her full time for 14 years. I can safely say this is the coldest winter on record for me. I can remember winters where I wanted a good, warm coat for a few days, and maybe a jacket for a week.

But I also remember winters where I called my northern family members on New Year’s Day to gloat about being out on the boat fishing while they were shoveling snow from around their behind’s or chipping ice to get into their cars to go to work.

This winter, they’re laughing at me because there’s no heat.

Anyway, every morning before I get dressed for work, I step out on the porch to check and see what that day might call for.

Even if the forecast calls for it to warm up, if the weather at that particular instant calls for pants and long sleeves, I go out of the house in pants and long sleeves.

Better plan on being warm enough than worry about being too warm.  If I get too warm, I can take off a shirt and cut off the pants into shorts. Those are the battles I win with Mother Nature.

But twice this week, I have stepped out on the porch to get a feel for the weather. Both times, it told me shorts and a heavy t-shirt were probably the rule of the day.

So I compromised, having lost so many battles in the past few weeks, and put on pants and a short-sleeve short.

Once, I was proven prudent as it remained tolerably warm all day and I was able to get inside before the sun was completely gone.

The second, I was so cold by the time I got home that I fired up the space heater. My dogs appreciated that move as well.

Then I stepped outside two days ago and it felt nice to the touch. I switched my pattern and put on shorts and a long sleeve shirt.

The air had a little nip, but the wind was down.

I believe Mother Nature had a good belly laugh at my expense on that one.

I live in the middle of the refuge surrounded by trees. When everyone else is kiteboarding down their street, I’m floating feathers to the ground.

I should have remembered that. I really should have remembered that.

The walk to the car was pleasant. The drive to the office was pleasant. But I knew I was in trouble when I hit the traffic light on Big Pine and the signs were bowing in the wind.

I stepped out of the shelter of the vehicle and the cold wind shot up my shorts into regions I would rather not mention. When I have no wind at home, that’s not a sure sign that there’s no wind elsewhere.

I really should have remembered that.

I could almost hear Mother Nature—way off in the distance—guffawing at me as I tried to run into the office where there is heat.

Once in the office, I could hole up in there all day and pretend to be warm with the heater running. And I wouldn’t have to admit to one more losing battle against what has now become a major nemesis—Mother Nature.

But before I made the office door, a colleague across the breezeway spotted me wearing my shorts and rubbing my cold-induced goose bumps.

He laughed at me.

“Are you some kind of lunatic, running around in shorts on a day like today?”

I had to admit it—I was a lunatic for that very reason.

So tomorrow, no matter what the forecast calls for, I’m going to dress warmly. If you see me out at one of the events around town, you might see me sweating profusely.

You see, I’m as proud as the next guy. If I guess wrong again, there is no way Mother Nature is going to get me to cut off another pair of pants into shorts to make up for her inability to make up her fickle mind.

Just give me warmth.

I have no place further south to which I can move.

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