Left home for a week, came back, the melt is on. Time to tap them maples.
Also need to get with it on the firewood. Get it split and stacked…for next winter. That’s the way it works around here. It looks like 40s for the next week. I hope so, because this year’s firewood is down to about two cold weeks’ worth.
But melt. Man, it’s tough to describe how much we react to it around here. The first loosening of the earth, the sound of water trickling, just the scent of it all. The chickens out in the open air, the three ducks working the bare patch in the snow along the southern exposure of the granary…even brown grass looks good at this point. I have actually grown to like winter. But I’m never sorry to see it go.
Point of order: None of this is to say winter is over. Only a fool…