This blog is intended for only a certain cadre of Northwoods Journaal Readers, more specifically, Trunk-slammers, Snow birds, Down-staters, Cottagers, Distant relatives, and Other friends who live in warmer climes including those who fear winter in the north woods.

 

 

The End of Winter in the North Woods

 

Today, April 11, 2023 at 4:30 PM, I am officially declaring that winter is dead. The signs are unmistakable, our bird feeder is inundated with black birds, robins have begun singing at ungodly hours in the morning, and a chicken has found our wild-bird feeder. (The hungry, oversized chicken apparently prefers my seed menu for wild birds as she has been stealing our cracked corn and sunflower seed mix, causing me the necessity of refilling the feeder daily.)

Not all the detritus of winter is gone. I still have patches of snow remaining in my lawn. This, despite today’s 70-degree weather and sunshine that will undoubtedly cause sunburn among our citizens who have forgotten what sunshine is, not to mention the havoc it can cause on unprotected skin. Other hints of Spring are the daffodils that have shown their interest in my gardening skills as many are now peaking their heads through what used to be known as a lawn.

Daffodowndilly,

 

 

By A.A. Milne

 

She wore her yellow sun-bonnet,

She wore her greenest gown,

She turned to the south wind,

And curtsied up and down,

She turned to the sunlight,

And shook her yellow head,

And whispered to her neighbor,
“Winter is dead”

 

But the biggest hint at the end of winter is our road. The gravel portion of our road passes directly in front of my lawn and mail box and each winter it shows the result of packed snow that seemingly cannot be removed by our County’s Road Commission Trucks with their gigantic plows. The consequence of this failure is that the snowpack turns into ice that grows thicker and thicker during the long winter. When the main roads are ice-free due to constant care and road salt, our poor graveled road shows no hint of warm weather melting until late in the year.

Not to be outdone by the road, our pond and the large lakes in our area also harbor ice for weeks and months after you’d think Spring is near. (Yesterday’s newspaper reported on residential damage to homes around the big lakes as the loosened ice was blown on shore by high winds). One of the prompters for today’s announcement about the end of winter is the melting of the aforementioned ice, both on our road and our pond. Almost as if on cue, two ducks landed on the pond today.

My own run-in with the end of winter snow patches involved my enthusiasm for beginning gardening duties. Given the warm weather and the sunshine, I decided this afternoon to begin work in clearing the dead limbs and trunk of a tree that fell this winter due to an overload of snow and ice. There was only a single impediment to the work that I began; a patch of snow- covered the ground where the dead tree had fallen. Surely, I reasoned, the small snow patch would be no match for my newly purchased lawn tractor with its knobby tires.

The engine on the lawn tractor sprang to life in mid-afternoon as I prepared to move the remnants of the dead tree that was littering the back lawn. I moved the tractor and cart to the dead tree, ready to begin loading the limbs that I had cut. After filling the cart, I climbed back on the tractor to make my first pick-up of branches and limbs. But the tractor wouldn’t move. The tires spun as the melting snow made a perfect lubricant for the knobby tires. An hour passed by as my efforts to move the tractor were for naught. In utter despair, I had to call upon the wife for help. The two of us made short work of the problem and I decided to put the tractor away for another day

 

Snowball

By Shel Silverstein, Falling Up, 1996

 

 

I made myself a snowball

As perfect as could be

I thought I’d keep it as a pet

And let it sleep with me.

I made it some pajamas,

And a pillow for its head.

Then last night it ran away,

But first – it wet the bed.