Curbs

[jhetley]

Other writers have wild geese flying over, honking news of spring. We have curbs. This may seem like an incomprehensible metaphor to readers in snowless zones, but curbs rank right up with nest-excavating chickadees as a harbinger.

Roads in Maine (and in other north-country locales) grow progressively narrower as winter advances, the mounds and then berms and then levees of packed snow creeping in from both sides until two cars can't pass except at driveway mouths and you can't see intersecting traffic at street-corners. Then, when spring approaches, the road widens again (displaying all the detritus of winter, from squashed Starbucks cups to dead Indians*) as the glaciers recede.

Walking with Wife yesterday, we saw clear evidence of curbs on the north and east sides of some local streets. These get the most benefit of sun -- south and west sides lag. I verified this sighting again during my morning newspaper walk. Spring _will_ come. I have seen the Signs.



*No, this is not a bad ethnic joke. Spring thaw sometimes brings unpleasant surprises, including drunks lost two months previously behind the local bar. Several have been First People, over the years, reflecting the scourge of alcoholism on the Rez.

Comments

[wood-dragon.livejournal.com]

I have seen some evidence of curbs here but the last two mornings the harbinger of Spring has been the scent of eau de skunk.

[cailleuch.livejournal.com]

I planted this Witch Hazel just so I would know that spring was on the way. Blooms beginning of March here in Michigan. Needed some early hint that Spring would be here eventually, regardless of weather.

Back yard has a Chinese Witch Hazel that never fails to bloom on Feb 1st, even buried in snow.

[jhetley.livejournal.com]

We had a bit of a mephitic air down along State Street yesterday. We expect more, and closer. Signs of spring, indeed.