The snow has gone

It wasn’t warm over the weekend, but it was nice enough. We bundled Little T up and went for a hike to Taquamenon Falls. On Saturday, my husband pulled out the snowblower and ran it out of gas for the season, breaking apart the huge drift in our front yard. He only got partway through before the snowblower died, so our yard was sprinkled with white crystals in a halo around a block of striated snow, the layers showing us when the sand was mixed in, when the plows had come by, and when the snow had been untouched.

We still have a drift in our backyard, underneath the clothesline. I’ll have to wait for that to melt, unless I want to put on my muck boots every time I change out laundry. Our yard is a mix of sand and black soil; sand where the pine needles coat the ground, and soil where the acorns have rotted.

We bought a rake on Sunday, and since then, every day I’ve taken Little outside, put him in his swing, and pushed him back and forth as I drag needles and acorns and branches over the ground into little piles. It’s a good workout, better than the weight-lifting I had been doing. Maybe I’ll exchange workouts for yardwork this summer. That would be fine. I’d rather get dirt under my fingernails than press barefoot indentations into my yoga mat anyway. I suspect it’s the farmgirl in me that resides deep down, underneath the love of sundresses and vintage decor.  I like the sharp smell of the pine needles, and the earthiness of the soil I’m baring with each scrape of the rake.

Soon I hope to be able to plant the seedlings growing in my kitchen windowsill. They sprouted much faster than I’d thought they would–cucumber and squash, tomatoes and bell peppers and jalapenos for homemade salsa, and herbs for cooking. I have a black thumb, but I will try to become a gardener anyway. This will be my first year growing a garden without my mom, down in Missouri, to help me.

Soon we’ll plant grass, and fix the fence. We’ll get a puppy. The big pine tree needs a bench and flower garden around it. The corners of the house look bare…I’m thinking of rosebushes, though it will be some time before they’re big enough to look right.

Winter is over, and spring is arriving. It’s as good world when the snow is gone.

Published by H. A. Titus

H. A. Titus is usually found with her nose in a book or spinning story-worlds in her head. Her love affair with fantasy began at age twelve, when her dad handed her The Lord of the Rings after listening to it on tape during a family vacation. Her stories have been published in Digital Dragon Magazine, Residential Aliens Magazine, and four anthologies: Alternative Witness; Avenir Eclectia Volume 1; The Tanist's Wife and Other Stories; and Different Dragons Volume II. In December 2013, her short story "Dragon Dance" won Honorable Mention in a Writers of the Future contest. She lives on the shores of Lake Superior with her meteorologist husband and young son, who do their best to ensure she occasionally emerges into the real world. When she's not writing, she can be found rock-climbing, skiing, or hanging out at her online home,

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