Edges Thin and Ragged

It’s March already.

It’s a week into March already, or close to it. The snow is getting crusty around the edges as it does – this morning’s dusting coating the gritty gray piles of ice like powdered sugar on chocolate donuts.

I am tired of winter. I have only lived in Maine for nine winters now and still I am not used to this reality, that ice falls out of the sky predictably enough to be something between a minor nuisance and a mere fact of life – and that it stays where it lands for weeks or months at a time. Shoveling the roof and sanding the yard are still novelties.

We are ages from spring here, right now. It was about minus 5 this morning – Farenheit, for those of you to whom it makes a difference – and isn’t supposed to be significantly warmer when the sun comes back up tomorrow. It might get above freezing for a few hours later in the week, if we are lucky.

This has been a long, cold, hard winter.

Eventually the snow will melt. It does not look now like that will be any time soon, but I have faith that eventually the snow will melt off, and I will mourn its passing and the soggy dead garden debris lurking beneath it. Eventually I might even clean that up. I meant to do it last year, but I was busy and winter came early.

And eventually the crocuses will send their wispy thin leaves up through the ice and the muck and open their faces – purple and striped and white and gold – to the thin watery sunlight. Eventually the forsythia bush will awaken into an explosion of yellow flowers and the annual negotiation for my parking space will recommence. Eventually the tulips will unfurl and the rhododendrons will resume their efforts to engulf the front porch. Eventually the lilacs will bloom.

But not yet.

There is so much work to be done in this time of dark and cold and waiting. I leave for Chicago again in less than two weeks and I am writing a blog entry instead of engaging one of the many academic tasks that also want my attention, because I am tired and it is cold and just for a little while, just a little, little while, I want to dream of warmth and beauty.

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