March is going out like a lion as wind forces snow into the corners of flower boxesand Iowa retains its grip on winter. I walked just an hour ago with my friend Gary in the falling snow as the two of us tried to distribute fliers about an upcoming school board meeting. We walked into the teeth of the wind, our eyes tearing, hands raw without gloves, traipsing through an unfamiliar neighborhood and after half an hour we were both covered with icy pelts and we could feel the pavement becoming dangerous. We barely got home in the car. Despite our contrarian and wilfull hopes we were forced to concede that its a real Iowa winter’s day. Somehow the return of winter feels like a rebuke from a mean old man. Winter is yelling at us. We’re being told to go back inside where we belong. I resent this old man. I think like all kids that someday I will run this place.
S.K.
Planet of the Blind 