The high last weekend was 20 degrees.
I've lived in Iowa long enough now to know that the first warm weekend- this weekend- (40 DEGREES!) draws all the Iowans out of their homes and into the outdoor warmth. There will be very few coats to be seen, and these poor creatures stumbling around in the sunlight will be a little worse for wear. Think of the caterpillar wrapping itself tightly and cozily in its chrysalis, only to reveal itself some time later as a beautiful butterfly, then picture the reverse. That is spring in Iowa. In September a reasonably fit people, with sun-kissed skin and a cheerful demeanor begin chirruping about the glories of fall, then shut themselves into their houses because humans aren't meant to survive days where -8 is the high temp (I'M LOOKING AT YOU, JANUARY).
This weekend those same people will hesitantly emerge, pale and confused by the burning orb hanging in the sky ('SUN'? WHAT IS THIS 'SUN' OF WHICH YOU SPEAK?), with scaly dry patches covering their skin and the near-hysterical good mood that marks the end of a season's worth of struggle with Seasonal Affective Disorder. The trails and sidewalks will be pulsing with the good people of Iowa, gulping fresh air and greeting neighbors they haven't seen in months with slightly manic good cheer mixed with a heavy dash of bewilderment.
|"What did you say? 'Bike'? What is 'ride a bike'? Do you mean 'Netflix'?"|
We will proceed to subsist on the memories of this week or so of good weather, because remember what May looks like here?