I remember writing about our first snow this season. I knew what would follow, but the snow was pretty. You give the first snow a little slack.
At this point, it is my hope that the snow season is over. It’s difficult, maybe impossible, to predict which snow will be the last. It’s like telling someone who’s following you to “take a left a block before I do.”
With that in mind, I’ve attached a photo of what I hope is the last snow in my yard. Pretty ugly isn’t it?
In the beginning snow is soft and fluffy and light. Toward the end of the season these piles of ‘permasnow’ take on characteristics not found naturally in the wild.
As December gives way to January and then February, Frank’s¹ plow runs through our driveway storm-after-storm. He finds a few favored spots and keeps piling the snow in the same place.
An inch or two of snow here and there adds a foot or two of snow to the pile, which is then compressed, thawed and refrozen, and coated with a lovely, patchy skin of road ‘stuff.’ This is the snow equivalent of those toothless guys who live in mobile homes in the middle of the desert and talk to themselves (or call Art Bell).
By Monday, this last reminder of the winter will be gone. I will shed no tears.
¹ – Along with plowing, Frank also handles our lawn care and plantings. He is very close to being declared a dependent on my income tax form.