Home, to the ugliest season of the year—wet and brown, dirty clumps of still-melting snow here and there, and only a few hints of green leaves poking up from the ground. April really is the cruelest month. Still, we’re glad to be here.
And people here are just relieved that it’s no longer white. What a ferocious winter we missed this year. Even this morning, a friend of mine who lives on the other side of Sault Ste. Marie awoke to a skim of fresh snow, and another who lives half an hour further north, on the east shore of Lake Superior, says snow is still piled to the height of her deck. Last evening at my book club, I listened to tales of minus 25 Celsius day after day, of cutting winds making it feel much colder, of shoulder injuries and check-book shock from keeping driveways clear of snow. People who heat with wood were running out of firewood. Roads were closed more often than anyone can remember. The skiers and shoe-shoe enthusiasts had a wonderful time, but even they have had enough. I sense a lingering grumpiness here that needs to thaw along with the ground. But both will be thawing quickly now.
So, the “triptalk” is at an end for this year. But I am thinking about continuing the blog with a new focus and a new name. Stay tuned.