Snow, Go

I'm happy to see the snow going.

Seeing the first patch of lawn, just a few weeks ago, thrilled me. Some errant child's footprint, increased in size by the sun's stronger rays, exposed the brown grass below. Then more footprints. Then a path. The path from the sidewalk to the woodpile. Aided by sun striking the warm concrete, the banks of snow bordering the sidewalks shrank, widening the swath between the hills. Then, the hills became isolated mountain ranges of filthy snow, isolated, ripe to be taken apart by the shovel, which I did with glee.

Now, the back yard is nearly free. The children rediscover the joys of the swing set, the bicycles, the playhouse. They get out the baseball mitts, bats, and balls. And the picnic blankets.

In the front yard, less progress. The neighbor's massive pine tree casts a long shadow over the yard. The snow hill the neighbor piled up for us is shrinking, to the point the sleds on the porch -- which traveled down the hill millions of time -- are superfluous. Enough snow melts I can begin removing Christmas lights; the rest will likely come down this weekend.

Goodbye, snow. At this point, I can't say I'll miss you.