Spring News...

| 1 Comment

A Patch of Old Snow

There's a patch of old snow in a corner,

That I should have guessed

Was a blown-away paper the rain

Had brought to rest.


It is speckled with grime as if

Small print overspread it,

The news of a day I've forgotten --

If I ever read it.

              -- Robert Frost, Mountain Interval, 1916

I look around the farmhouse today, as the sun slowly rises, and I see a lot less snow than was here last week.  Frost's A Patch of Old Snow would still be bundle-sized instead of a few sheets, piled here and there around the house and barns, but there's more than enough bare ground to say spring is here.


Robins are dancing over the lawn this morning, interested in what the moles have tossed up overnight. Small limbs fallen over the winter lay scattered across the yard, discarded by the  old maple tree when the ice came on thick, followed by a heavy wind. I'll be gathering them up and adding them to the pile already started. They'll dry over the summer and work well for kindling.


The male ring-necked pheasant staying under the barn all winter has moved on. He survived the bitter cold and deep snow living off the scattered seeds dropped by other birds from the feeder. Warmer days and spring urges has sent him deeper into the woods in search of female companionship. May he stay healthy and safe and another generation come to winter under the barn.


The garden has shaken off the remnants of snow that covered it deep for months. Sleeping well through the worst of the bitter cold under the snowy blankets, strawberry plants are already looking green and ready for warmer weather. For the rest, soon there'll be tilling and digging and rows to be planted -- but that will have to wait awhile...


I'll take the wreath down from the front door -- hung in a different time, when hopes ran high at the beginning of winter, when the first flakes of snow excited the soul, rather than depressed later in the season.  Long forgotten behind the glass of the storm door, the boughs are still as green as when they first cheered us months ago -- but it is time to go.


Maine spring is here, in the mountains to the west.  Soon it will be the time of soil turning and planting, branch-harvesting and raking, garden planning and wishful thinking of harvests yet to come. 


No, soon I'll not have the time to read the wind-tossed papers of snow, tucked along stone walls and under deepest pine woods. News of spring has reached me here, and after a long winter, and a low wood pile, it's time to get going again.  News of the land tells it's own tale, and news of the world can wait awhile.

1 Comment

well, so nice to read this one...i never thought how wonderful you imagined the place...

Leave a comment

About this Entry

This page contains a single entry by JeffAdminist published on July 8, 2009 6:51 PM.

A Tale of Two States... was the previous entry in this blog.

Find recent content on the main index or look in the archives to find all content.