Snowbirds.
The latest episode of Call the Midwife opened with this meditation from Sister Monica Joan:
Everyone knows that birds migrate, but not which country they believe to be their home. The hard, hot cloudless climate of the south or the fragile gray-white warmth of our own climes. But perhaps the birds are simply lucky. They have the best of both worlds.
After two winters of migrating to Florida, I suppose I now qualify as a “snowbird.” However, unlike the birds we observe each season, I know in my heart that my home is in the Berkshires of Western Massachusetts.
There are things I love about being here: walking in the morning without fear of slipping on the ice; going out without having to factor in extra time for putting on my coat, hat, gloves, and scarf; and spending time with family and friends who make this their permanent home.
There I things I dislike about being here: heat and humidity that sends everyone inside to air-conditioned spaces which are usually uncomfortably cold; state politics that are discriminatory and cruel; and a building boom that increasingly covers open spaces and farmland, ignoring climate change.
I came down here for my first extended stay last year because of the COVID shutdown. I couldn’t bear the thought of being inside, alone, for several months. I wasn’t sure that indoor venues would be much safer this year, and, truth be told, I enjoyed the respite from the harsh winter. So I came again, lucky to have a wonderful friend willing to share her apartment for a few months. The first year I tried four months, this year three, which I think is about right.
I don’t know exactly how the birds know it is time to migrate. I selected my early April return date last December. Spring snowstorms notwithstanding, I want to be home for the crocuses and the first buds on my apple tree. I want to feel the air change as the days grow longer and warmer. I want to savor each sign of spring.
Floridians love to check the northeast weather every morning and gloat. I will happily ignore them when they text “Aren’t you sorry you left?” Because I will be home.