Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Late Winter Ebb

The aluminum eyelets on my Danners ice up again, pulling the thick laces back and forth across them as I trudge through the half frozen floodplain. They splay, half wet half frozen.  Another day of snow followed by four days of snow melt followed by another day of snow followed by days of rain.  All this is just mighty fine if you don't work on construction projects in the water.

The snow melts, feeding the hillside springs, slipping down into our damaged springs. I chase a sediment plume in the construction zone furiously upstream, only to realize it was caused by a giant bullfrog shaking loose the silt from hibernation, arising to the surface to warm himself enough to slip back down into the silt and sleep for another month.

We try to will up the spring flowers but their rise has come too slowly, exposing fresh succulents buds to the hordes of hungry deer, rabbits, squirrels and groundhogs.  Gnarled yellow shreds in fields of daffodils, six weeks late, not yet ready to bloom. And won't be afforded the chance.

Whatever grievance I bring you is a soft one.  Life goes on and spring will come.  The soil will warm, then dry.  The winter ducks will fly north and away.  The fish will rise and I will find them.

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