Snow blanketed the entire world the other day, preceded by hours with rain that became ice. Everything was a slick, hard mess. We were hoping for an early onset to spring, but as it turned out, those hopes were dashed with winter's surge. Hoping ... it never seems to affect the weather.
Then, as with most things, the days brought differences in the outlook. It might be really cold at night, but the sun's rays have a hidden warmth. It beams down and when it touches the chilled earth, the chilled earth begins to loosen up, pat itself on the arms a bit to get the circulation going, then shed its coat, sweater, and long johns, finally to find itself warm.
I took my coffee grounds out to spill them on the snow -- I love the look of coffee grounds splattered everywhere -- and when I got there most of the snow was gone. Clear over by the well, under the big maple tree, there was still some snow. But that was about it. Also over by the fence. There's places there, I'm sure, where the sun's rays never make it. It's a tangle of grass that mice have arranged to live in.
Those places are on the south, I might add. Meaning, there actually is plenty of snow left, and ice under it. But you've got to go north to find it. I could look, but I don't think I will. North is only a few feet away, just on the other side of our north wall. I'm not that interested. I already just know it. Because I have experience with life. I know the north never melts. Yes, maybe by the time July gets here, even things on the north will finally catch up to the south.
Just chalk it up as another reason I think the north is not as good as the south. It's a very shadowy place, where mankind finds an uneasy welcome at best. You could die going north.