Yesterday was sunny and blue skies, light so bright it hurt my old cataract winter eyes. For the first day this year I sat on the bench with a cigar and lit up. The pug wandered off a little to find the sunniest spot in the world to lay down and catch a nap. Lorna came down and sat with me a while, but moved away from my drifting cigar smudge to sit on the north low wall, her back to the cow tank, a galvanized one time fish tank - that is, before the infamous raccoon incident last Fall. Lorna bathed her face in the pure sunshine, following it like a sunflower, claiming that 14 minutes would give her her daily requirement of vitamin D - note, not 13 minutes nor 15 minutes, but 14. ??? Who decides these things, the Bureau of Minutes and Hours? I thought that all of the 1410 snow would surely melt, but the last of it was still lurking in the north shade of the arborvitae.
Today was an overcast 70 degrees, a weathered wood and metal day - steel, lead and aluminum with occasional hints of stainless steel and driftwood - a chilling breeze blowing across the mushy gray ice still covering most of Oakwood Bay. Still, I thought the warming temperature would certainly melt off the last of the tenacious snow clinging in the garden. Late in the day I went down to the bench to fire up another maduro and work on my primary occupation these days - filing and sanding the burrs and flash off a set of vintage C.L.B. bar-end city brakes. Over by the birdbath there were still three small clumps of snow hanging to life. It's supposed to be cold and rainy tomorrow, even possible snow flurries, but the next time I wander down to the garden the real winter snow will be gone. We may even get a few inches of sticky snow in a late storm, but that will be Spring snow. We are done with Winter. The door is closed. So saith the new Spring robin from atop the overgrown lilac that protects the garden steps.