Patton: Spring's Magic Show

Like an expert magician working before an audience, Spring is often able to create a sense of mystery and wonder as she carries out her act. Over time, she plucks things long forgotten from the snowy depths.

The snow has been melting slowly, almost imperceptibly, in the yard around my house. What’s that I see? Shazam! Tiny points of metal equally spaced from one another have popped though the snow. Aha, my long lost snow poles have re-appeared. A lot of good they did me buried beneath the snow.

Shortly thereafter, the very top of our newspaper tube appeared. But, it wasn’t where it was supposed to be. Abracadabra! Instead of bordering the street, the tube seemed to have moved about 5 feet inland. Perhaps, it had tried unsuccessfully to run away during a snow storm like the Gingerbread Man in the familiar children’s story. After much deliberation, I came to the conclusion that the newspaper tube hadn’t moved at all. The snow had.

As the winter storms kept coming, the plows couldn’t keep up with them by pushing the accumulated snow back to the curb. So, the snow kept encroaching further and further into the street, in the process leaving the newspaper tube far behind. Eventually, the snow had moved so far into the street that only one lane remained open for traffic. When cars going in opposite directions encountered one another, one had to give way and pull into a driveway to allow the other one to pass.

Our mailbox on the street never entirely disappeared. A friendly neighbor pawed the snow away from the hinged door, allowing the letter carrier to deposit the mail inside. Aparecium! Because every other part of the mailbox was encased in snow, an eerie illusion was created where the mailbox appeared to be floating 4 feet off the ground. Now, as the snow has melted, I feel a sense of relief. I can see the vertical pole that holds up the mailbox. The law of gravity has not been repealed.

As the snow banks lining the driveway melt, newspapers long buried in the snow suddenly came into view. Dissendium! These papers have the feel of a time capsule about them. I find myself reading about events that occurred one or two months ago.

One of our neighbors neglected to take down his lawn decorations shortly after Christmas. They were soon buried and forgotten in the snow. Evanesco! Now, as the snow level drops, the decorations have resurfaced, creating the weird impression that Christmas decorations are being used to celebrate Easter.

But not everything about the snow is bad. At winter’s worst, when I attempted to cross the lawn to get to the composter in back, I had to wade through snow up to my waist. Over time, the snow became compacted, and a thick crust formed on the top. Expecto patronum! Now. instead of wading through the snow, I am able to walk on top of it.

Predictions are the snow on the ground in Boston won’t completely melt until April 20. Oh no, at that point, the baseball season will be well underway. Don’t despair. Think about it. So long as the snow is on the ground, we don’t have to cut the grass. We will probably be saved two, maybe three, grass cuttings.

Speaking of grass, Spring has saved its greatest trick for the last. Dissendium! If I look very carefully along the fringe of the driveway, I can see a pallid, tan surface starting to appear. My goodness! Can it be? Yes, it’s grass, withered, battered, and discolored, but grass nonetheless.

Bravo, Spring, bravo. You’ve put on quite a magic show. Now, why don’t you just toddle off the stage. And take the snow with you. Let the next act, Summer, move front and center in our lives.

Gary Patton is the author of “Outtastatahs: Newcomers’ Adventures in New Hampshire.” “Outtastatahs” can be purchased on-line at Amazon.com or at local bookstores in Portsmouth, Concord, Exeter, and Hampton.