It would seem my immune system has had enough of the Maine winter; I suspect she’s headed out for a vacation in some warm, sunny locale, leaving me here to deal on my own. As you may surmise from that, I’m not dealing so well. I’m working on the third (Fourth? Who knows?) incarnation of the Common Cold in a month, and it’s wearing me down. I’m barely managing to keep up with school, let alone housework, and knitting is moving at a snail’s pace. I recall last year a friend said to me, “Oh, Lori, you’re always sick!” and it seems to be true, at least during the dampness that often comes with the change of seasons. My lungs just don’t like it, no siree. So that’s why I’ve been scarce of late, please forgive.
I did get a reprieve on Sunday, both from the weather and feeling under it. I took full advantage and let my Constant Companion lead me out for a meander down the road.
Believe it or not, this is a sure sign of spring in these parts. See how dry the road is? No ice whatsoever. And those banks of snow are crusty and wet, melting more each day. If you step on one, you’ll break through the icy crust and down into the “rotten” snow-slush underneath.
As usual, we stopped by the river to see what’s new.
You can hardly see him there in the center, he blends in rather well. He raced exuberant circles for no less than ten minutes while I stood watching and soaking up the sun.
I don’t know who owns the field; it seems to have been mowed before winter, and there is a trailer with some boxes parked at the edge. It was not posted “No Trespassing,” so I felt free to enjoy the space.
Walking back toward home, we found this little bit of a creek broken free of the ice and burbling along merrily.
I stopped to inspect the birch bark that is peeling in thin strips, fluttering like streamers. Rudy snuffled and tasted a bit and seemed less than impressed. I’m hoping it’s another sign of impending spring.