Spring is quite the little trickster, she is. On Friday, she brought us weather so warm that Clif and I raked part of the back lawn, and we didn’t even need to wear our jackets. But Saturday arrived with a cold rain. On Sunday it became even colder, and the rain turned to a freezing drizzle.

This is what our car looked like this morning, with one window scraped and the other left untouched.

But progress has been made. Here is a shot of the Kennebec River.

There are still ice chunks along the banks, and I wonder if they will be there until the end of April. They are so thick! The one below looks like a mini-iceberg.

Here is another view of horizontal ice chunks.

Despite the miserable drizzle, our yard is nearly snow free, and snow-gauge Clif’s job is coming to an end. Next week, perhaps, depending on what Spring has up her sleeves.

Come, Spring, Come! We long to see your pretty face.

I am happy to report that the three or four inches of snow that fell on Friday is gone, gone, gone. Goodbye, and don’t come back until next winter! But Winter is not quite done with us yet, and she has given us a blast of cold weather that is more than a little brisk: 25°F  and very windy. Although he put a brave face on it, Snow-gauge Clif shivered as I took his picture this morning.

But I am getting ahead of myself. On Sunday, we went to Hallowell for a picture of the Kennebec River. Despite the snow, despite the cold, the Kennebec is nearly free of ice. Oh, the blue of that sky and water!

But the ice chunks aren’t gone. Not quite yet. I’m wondering how many weeks it will take before they finally melt.

Now, back to Narrows Pond Road with a ta-dah! The snow is nearly all gone from the backyard, and thus Snow-gauge Clif’s job there is done. Not enough snow to worry about. In fact, it’s time to think about raking.

Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for the front yard, which is much shadier than the back. Snow-gauge Clif’s job is not quite done.

But let’s return to the backyard, where I saved the best for last. Another ta-dah, ta-dah!

The snow is nearly gone from the patio, and it’s not even close to April 22, Shannon’s birthday.

What do you think? One more week? Such excitement on Narrows Pond Road. Stay tuned!

Yesterday afternoon, Clif and I went to Augusta to do some errands. After that we had planned to go to a panel about truth and poetry at The Terry Plunkett Poetry Festival at the University of Maine in Augusta. We knew that snow—yes, snow—was in the forecast, but we thought it would come later in the evening.

Turns out, we were wrong. The day started out nice enough, but by the time we left home to do errands, the sky was overcast. When we came out of the grocery store, it was spitting snow, as we say in Maine.

“What do you think?” I asked Clif.

He shrugged, and we both squinted at the spitting snow.

“We probably should go home,” I suggested.

“Good idea,” he said quickly.

So home we went, a little reluctantly. We are both—ahem—at the age where we have a hard time driving not only at night but also in bad weather, especially snow. In addition, we were worried about slippery roads.

As dusk came, we were very happy we had made the decision to go home. Here is what it looked like outside our front door.

And here is our old trusty friend, Green Shovel. Clif had brought Green Shovel down cellar, and we had thought that would be that until next winter. Silly us!

A little while later, we heard the roar of the snowplow and saw the flash of its yellow light flicker through the closed shades in our living room.

In fact, neither Clif nor I are too worried about this snow. (As long as we are home, of course.) This is April, after all, and the snow will soon be gone. The only shoveling that had to be done was the front porch.

Nevertheless, I could swear the snow was laughing  at us this morning. Mother Nature is quite the trickster, isn’t she?

I know this will probably make me sound like a boring fuddy-duddy,  but one of my absolute favorite places is my own backyard. We only own an acre of land, and our backyard, fenced in for Liam, is probably about one-half acre. But our property, modest though it is, abuts a watershed for the Upper and Lower Narrows Pond, the primary source for Winthrop’s drinking water. So behind our house is a big woods, full of life and mystery.  It’s not ours, but it gives us an expanded feeling, especially as no development is allowed on this land.

From December through March, our backyard is snowed-in, and except for the shoveled paths, it is not accessible to us. (To our great delight, the birds and squirrels, however, still come and go. ) But as soon as the snow melts, the yard is open to Clif and me, and I never get tired of looking around to see what’s going on. Spring, summer, or fall, there is always something to notice.

The goldfinches, who are making a sound and a fury most days, are flocking to the feeder, and the males are slowly beginning to show their beautiful summer plumage.

And speaking of slowly…the irises are starting to poke through the layer of leaves in the garden. Perhaps next week, I’ll clear those leaves and see what else might be coming up.

When I’m  in the backyard, I always like to look into the woods. Right now, I can actually see a little ways in, to the stone walls that once bordered this land when it was all fields and no woods.

Most of the trees have yet to bud, much less leaf, so last year’s beech leaves still provide a subtle yet shimmering beauty.

Finally, I like to look up at the huge pines that border our yard.

After a long winter of mostly looking out the bathroom window—my blind—it is such a pleasure to be out poking around my backyard, watching as spring gradually shows her pretty face.