Progress of Spring

When we returned from Mexico to our northern Ontario home two and a half weeks ago, a bit earlier than usual, we were warned: gloat—or complain— and you’ll put your lives at risk. It’s been a brutal winter here. My other half had to bite his tongue, but not me. I’m delighted to have been here for the very tail end of winter and to be experiencing the spring melt.

We really have two springs here. There’s the one pictured below—slushy, colourless, you might even say ugly unless it’s the first bare ground you’ve seen since Christmas. Sometimes it’s quick, and sometimes it lingers. This year, deep winter hung on until just a few weeks ago, leaving a nearly record snow cover. It’s melting fast now, but there’s still a ways to go before the second spring—the one when the daffodils and tulips bloom, the garden beckons, and the hills turn that breathless, limey-green. When you can finally shed your jacket and your mud-boots and drink your coffee on the deck. That one, of course, grabs all the attention. But it can’t show up until this one has had its due.