I used a picture from this angle last week, and this is an example of how Wisconsin’s late March snowstorms don’t bother me much — even that last patch of snow in the new photo melted a few hours later.
We found the old tricycle at the bottom of our hill that leads to the bay of Green Bay. Like many bits of yard debris, it has rusted away to uselessness but retains an odd charm. We’ve given it a special place in the garden in front of the house. We were able to measure winter’s last gasp last week by the way the snow covered it nearly completely, but as springlike temperatures and rain erased the white stuff, we watched the tricycle re-emerge over the past few days.
And now we can watch the land coming back to life. I noticed a few green sprigs among the grey and brown as Summer and I took a morning walk. It won’t be long before the green overwhelms the decay — I didn’t specifically look for daffodil shoots, but they must be there. It’s their time.
There’s no sign yet of the Mayflowers that always erupt next to our garden shed, but hey, it’s only April 5.
And that expanse of brown that the tricycle melts into? Believe me, the reason Red placed that charming relic there is because the rust offers a contrast to the explosion of color in that garden every summer. Hold that thought, and I’ll post an appropriate example in a few weeks.
As I write this, thunder is rumbling away and rain is blasting down — rain, from the same sky that was dumping snow less than a week ago. It’s the season of change, and if you believe in life and growth, it’s a good change.
I’m not saying we’re free of winter — I’ll always remember the 30-inch snowfall of mid-April 2018 — but things are looking up.
