Life in Maine

Despite my concerns to the contrary, we have managed to emerge from the seemingly impenetrable white blanket that covered the landscape for the past four months. It's remarkable what a string of 50 degree days will do to melt away a winter's worth of snow. We also managed to escape the flood threat presented by such a deep snow cover - the melting occurred slowly and steadily and was not accompanied by any major downpours.

Now that the snow is gone, however, we are served with a stark reminder that the stuff that was on the laying around on the ground last fall did not decide to get up and walk away in the interim. What this primarily means to me is that the incalculable number of oak leaves littering the lawn are still waiting to be raked away. And due to the various winter storms, the yard has also acquired a rather impressive collection of fallen sticks and branches. Throw a gazillion acorns into the mix, and you begin to see that there is a lot to be dealt with in the ensuing weeks if we are ever to see green grass the lawn once again.

Aside from the naturally occurring lawn clutter, the ebb of winter's white cover has miraculously brought supposedly long-lost "treasures" back to the fore. Witness the dog's "Mr. Boogaloo," a combination plush and rope tug toy that decided to hide out at the bottom of a snow bank over the winter. Jasper was delighted to have his old friend to chew on, but Mr. Boogaloo apparently wasn't feeling quite up to the task after his long entombment. After a few tugs, Mr. Boogaloo's rope arms and legs separated from his body, and his stuffing "guts" were revealed to the world. Mr. Boogaloo now makes his home at the town transfer station.

This time of year is also ideal for revealing any trash that has been dumped over the winter. The culverts at the sides of the roads more often than not contain a most impressive collection of foam coffee cups, MacDonald's bags, plastic bags, and other litter. Not the most impressive display of man's sensitivity to nature.

Having built a house in an area that has been woodlands for many, many years, we have the distinct advantage of not only being subjected to a winter's worth of litter build-up, but to have trash treasures from years gone by reveal themselves. Up near the road, the woods have apparently been the dumping grounds for the occasional bag of trash, and nobody, up to now, has taken responsibility for cleaning things up. This past weekend, Denise took it upon herself (although she will claim I "forced" her) to pick up an unsightly mess near where our driveway meets the road. In addition to rusted tin cans and other assorted delights, she came upon a very weathered and very unopened six pack of beer. One has to wonder as to the story behind such a "dumping." And no, we did not end up drinking the beer.

On my morning runs, I am privy to up-close views to a number of such roadside dumpings. That's not to say the area we live in is a dump - there are maybe three or four ancient "piles" in the woods for a route that covers almost seven miles. But it would be nice if the people who lived by these areas would take the initiative to do a bit of clean-up. In addition to the old tires and cans, I've seen a car battery, old mattress parts, and rusted barbed wire. But, I guess these folks feel that it's a whole lot easier to wait a few weeks until the plants cover these things up than it is to pick them up and haul them to the transfer station.

Of course, not everything that is revealed by the thaw is trash. While walking the dog one morning, he lifted his nose in the air, sniffed intently, and purposefully walked off about 40 feet into the woods. After rummaging about for a few moments, he located his "treasure" - a too-fresh-for-comfort leg bone of some unfortunate animal. Jasper was ecstatic and despite my better judgement, I let him keep his hard-earned treasure. And in the past few weeks, we've had deer and wild turkeys foraging in the front yard, so there must be all manner of "good stuff" hiding under and among the leaves.

Now that the ice has left the pond, it, too, is revealing it's wealth of buried riches. Like the lawn, the pond is also sporting it's share of oak leaves. Unlike the lawn, there is no easy way remove the leaves from the pond. I've tried dipping a rake in the water and lifting them out, but it is highly inefficient. However, I am second-guessing the wisdom of even bothering to remove them. The frogs, tadpoles, and water bugs seem to use them as hiding places, and the pair of mallards that visit daily seem to enjoy rummaging through the submerged leaves in their search for culinary delicacies. So, until this summer when I actually get in the pond and take the time to drag them out by hand, I think the submerged leaves will stay put.

It is a very brown world around here right now, but that will change soon as the ferns unroll over the forest floor and the grass responds to the warmer temperatures and sunshine. And then, of course, the black flies and mosquitoes will be here to share our good fortune. But that's okay, at least there are no more snow storms predicted for anytime soon.

What Lies Beneath