The shock of nice weather in the middle of a Great Lakes winter

Terry and I have made a habit of traveling to Florida in February and March to visit our son Jared and his girlfriend Lyndsey. We just did it last week (Terry is still down there, as a matter of fact).

This is usually a pretty good time to get out of Northeast Ohio with its wind, snow and ice and spend some time in St. Petersburg with its sunshine, blue skies and...more sunshine. And this trip was no different, as temperatures reached about 80 degrees every day I was there.

When we arrived at the Tampa/St. Pete airport on Thursday and went outside to wait for Jared to pick us up, I immediately felt like I always feel when I fly to a warm place in the middle of winter: Pale, haggard, bloated, and more than a little disconcerted.

It always takes me a day or so to adjust to wearing shorts and a t-shirt outdoors.

On Saturday, Terry and I took a short morning walk with Jared around a nearby lake. (Also on the walk was Jared and Lyndsey's cat Salem, whom Jared carried in a little kitty container hung around his neck.) The conditions were perfect, with low humidity and temperatures right around 70 degrees.

It was so nice that I started wondering – as I have before – what it would be like to live in a place like Florida. A place where it rarely snows. A place where the sun doesn't disappear for weeks at a time. A place where outdoor activities are in play year-round.

From time to time, Terry and I have mused over the idea of someday moving south, or at least spending significant time there. It wouldn't happen for another decade, if at all, but the thought never quite leaves our minds.

Then I begin to consider the drawbacks. And there are several.

For one thing, it may hardly ever snow down there, but hurricanes and tropical storms are a thing. While Tampa/St. Pete doesn't get hit as often as other areas of Florida do, Hurricane Milton did force Jared and Lyndsey to evacuate south to Miami last fall.

Then there's the day-to-day weather. Not the winter weather, the summer weather. It gets hot in June, July, August and September. Really hot. Hot and humid. To the point that you don't really want to be outside.

There's also the simple fact that it isn't home. Having lived in one city and one city only, I have deep roots in my hometown. I know where things are located. I know lots of people. I understand how things work around here.

Would it be worth turning our whole world upside down in exchange for more pleasant winter and spring days? I don't know. I really don't.

Right now, it all depends on when you ask me. At the moment, having just spent time outside with Jack shoveling heavy, icy snow off our driveway, I'm feeling very pro-Florida. In a couple of months when it starts to warm up around here? Maybe not.

To be continued...

I now view the cold months here in Northeast Ohio as a personal challenge

Fall began earlier this week, but I've always felt it really coincides with the start of the school year.

By that definition, it has been fall in our city for more than a month. The deeper we get into September and October, the crisper the mornings become. Since May or so, almost all of my morning walks have been done in a t-shirt and shorts. Now the long-sleeve pullovers come out.

It would be one thing if it ended there, and if in a few months we were again enjoying warm mornings and even warmer afternoons.

But that pleasantly brisk 5:30am walk is just the beginning. For those of us on the shores of Lake Erie, there is a long period ahead of falling temperatures that won't bottom out until January/February, perpetually gray skies, and yes, snow and ice.

I never used to think much of the September-through-March slog. It just came and went and you got through it.

But man, I swear the older I get, the longer it seems. Those first signs of warmth in mid- to late March are always welcome, and they always feel like an ordeal we've come through together. But enduring the cold months gets just a bit tougher each year.

Of course, no matter where you live, there are climatic challenges. If it's not hurricanes it's tropical humidity (or both). Or much worse cold than we get here. Or unending rain.

Our weather issues probably aren't any more difficult to deal with than anyone else's. It's just...boy, I don't know how a six-month period can suddenly feel like it's years long, but it does.

Oh well, we'll live. Terry and I have talked about becoming snowbirds eventually, but for now, we grin and bear it.

OK, admittedly, I'm not grinning.