The View From Here: "Right?"

Recent addition to the mystery of the abandoned shoes and a certain sign of Spring recently discovered by Todd Jacobs

By Ken DeLaat

It’s Spring, right?
I mean, these last couple of days with the snow (wet and heavy which augments my most consistent winter workout considerably) are just a bit of a last second gasp by a quickly expiring season right?
Officially we’re about two weeks away as I write this but that’s only when it is “Official” as in equinoxically speaking. Spring begins when the weather turns and this small spate of snappish cold and snow is but a temporary aberration, right?

Because seriously, all the signs are here. There have been rumors of robin sightings for days now and robins wouldn’t be wrong about such a thing being instinctively aware of when the ground is about to soften up and produce a few wormy repasts. Same as the loons and mergansers who have returned and have been putting away fish like the Lenten Friday crowds at St Bart’s and All Saints.
Somewhere under the snow I just know there are croci ready to pop and the daffodils and tulips must surely be ready to poke their way through as well.

As mentioned the ice is off the lake and while it isn’t perhaps yet time to have the dock and boat brought to the shores of N3 World Headquarters and Squirrel Suet Supplier, tidying up things and getting out the accoutrements  so we’re at the ready for their arrival could certainly be on a not too distant chore list, right?
Look, this chunk of chill we’re experiencing is a fluke. There’s no way winter hangs on much longer. And while it was just so pleasant to have Old Man Winter come by for his much too elongated stay, the visit has run its course. We’ve had all the fun we could possibly have with winter. I mean who doesn’t love bundling up and layering to a level that allows  one to spend time outside during weather that in many circles is just unacceptable?
But its on its last legs, right?

And now enter Spring, ready to do its thing by tossing out those glorious first few warm days that remind us of why we live here, altering the landscape from black and white to full living color, and getting shed of the white stuff. We all like snow (goes the lie) but c’mon enough is enough. And don’t give me any stats about where this winter stands historically because I don’t give a rat’s behind if this winter was colder, warmer, snowier or less snowy than average. When I walk outside and my face hurts I could care less that the overall season is milder than most.
But like I said, no worries. Why in fact the other day our good friend Todd Jacobs sent us a photo of one of the true signs that spring has arrived.
I’m speaking of course of the shoe he stumbled upon near Luce.

Generally this is where I launch into a time honored shtick about the mystery of the orphaned shoes, long a passion of mine and one pursued avidly  often to the chagrin of traveling companions.
Well, primarily my Lifetime Spousal Companion  Lil who has patiently (on most occasions) listened as I pointed out such lost soles on our many trips. A venture south a few years ago produced nearly a half  dozen within a short days drive each accompanied by the usual dialogue of “Look, all alone. Just sitting there. How did this come to be? Where did it arrive from and most importantly of all…..
What does it mean?”
As I mentioned, a woman of immeasurable patience. A patience  that can be sorely tested when awoken from a small nap to have one of these forgotten footwear finds shared.

But I digress.
Combine the robins, the loons and their watery friends, the disappearance of the lake ice, the green revolution about to depose the reign of OMW and most off all ….?
The shoe.
Winter is clearly over and done.
Right?