This week saw the end (we hope) of the severe winter weather. By the time Friday arrived in its own sweet time, the entire block had melted except for random piles which were solidified and needed extra time to surrender to the high temperatures.
My front lawn was the site of two of those piles.
I have been a suburban neighborhood resident nearly my entire life, and one of the unwritten rules of the realm is that anything standing out on your property is suspicious. This means that the last vestiges of snow on my lawn served as a reminder that we just had winter, and it drew unnecessary attention to my home. This could not be tolerated, but what to do about the problem?
My best guess was to offer a gentle coaxing of the snow piles so they would go quietly into that puddle of water and leave my entire lawn green as before the first flakes covered it in late January.
The first attempt involved breaking up the piles with my snow removal tools, spreading the white topography around and thinning it out to expose more surfaces to the climbing temperatures. The effect was good, but gradual.
I had been gifted an electric kettle which I have been using to prepare my morning cup of tea, and I realized it was the perfect way to concoct a faster answer to my snow woes. I filled that vessel to the maximum, then took the kettle of boiling water out to the snow pile and poured it strategically through the peaks and drifts. The satisfaction of watching the snow melt away was liberating. I went back again later to do the same.
Somebody who might have been watching probably thought I had lost my marbles. I didn’t care. Better to be without marbles and snow-free like everybody else.
Today there is a slight winding trace of snow left on the lawn, and it’s obvious that it won’t go without a fight. Fortunately the temperatures are high enough that it will disappear entirely in hours, bringing the storms of this winter to a conclusion. Whether it will be twelve hours or 48, I can’t be sure, but I won’t miss it.
The melting snow also brought a surprise. Nestled among the landscaping, I found what appeared to be a piece of paper blown in by the heavy winds of the blizzard, but it turned out to be a small envelope containing a bracelet I had ordered and considered lost in transit a few weeks ago. The seller had never provided a tracking number or status update, so I had started to give up hope of receiving it. The item wasn’t valuable at all, but had it still not come within the week, I would have looked into replacement. The contents were dry and intact in spite of the foot and a half of white stuff which had apparently buried it for what I guess is two weeks or more.
Other than a holly tree limb which broke under the weight of the snow, things are back to normal. My trash cans are accessible again, the impossible pile of driveway snow that affected my putting out the trash also melted away (and faster than the patch on the lawn). The birds are being fed from the feeders instead of on the icy ground, and the first jonquils of the season are even starting to pop up in the garden. A trace of spring has come to the land, and it’s a reason to breathe a sigh of relief as March vanquishes the winter blues of January and February.
The best things are often worth waiting for, but I think we all agree that two months was two too many. Let’s hope 2027 will be milder and more tolerable.
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