Autumn's first spring

Spring seems to have sprung in our little corner of the world. Yesterday the thermometer tipped to the higher side of 50. I think it says something interesting about where I am in life when I get excited about the thermometer being higher than my age.

Obviously though, this is the American style of measuring the temperature. It's the system in which freezing is bizarrely set at 32. Bizarre, until you think a little bit about these United States. Most of the country cares more about the top level of this temperature scale. Many of the southern states see 32 on rare occasions, but they understand fully what 100 means.

I'm sort of with them, when the temperature warms. When it's cold, I understand what zero degrees means in the Celsius scale. It means freezing. I get that. And even though Anders Celsius, the inventor of the scale meant for zero to be the boiling point of water, he finally relented and made zero the temperature in which water freezes.

And that makes sense. But what doesn't make sense is 16. When the temperature hits 16, I have no idea if I need a jacket, or I don't need a jacket. However, 62, the approximate corresponding measurement in Fahrenheit, makes sense. It means go for a walk. With the family. Because spring is here.

So, my point. I know spring is coming when I make the mental switch from Celsius to Fahrenheit. When I go from 1, 2 and even 5, to 60, 65, and dare I dream, 80 degrees. Meaningful numbers to me. Happy spring people.