Late winter is the worst kind of winter

I am in my late winter of discontent. March is coming in like a lion for me. The winter season always wears on me by the time the third month of the year begins. I embraced this winter season better than I have for several years. I went snowshoeing, I made a set of used cross-country skis pay for themselves. I put on skates for the first time in a dozen years and glided along a ribbon of ice through a forest.

But then the snow just got too heavy. I spent much of the middle two weeks of February wielding a shovel in my driveway or behind an electric snowblower a friend graciously gave me (he was upgrading to a gas model). It still wasn’t enough effort. My parents came to visit and Dad did some extra shovel work too, just so he could park his large pickup truck. I’m sure the box is big enough for a helicopter to land in.

Public works crews in Gatineau and Ottawa spent about two weeks plowing and blowing through streets to return them to their two-lane width. Dump trucks were a constant sight, hauling unwanted snow to municipal dumping areas. Today’s environmental laws don’t allow for dumping it on lakes and rivers anymore.

We’ve had warm weather around here lately. The snow has lost its clean whiteness. It looks more brown, yellow, and black. Like an ancient glacier melting, snowbanks are revealing gravel, paper cups, and the butts of a million cigarettes. When the snow is clean, new, and useable for recreation, it’s welcome. When it’s dirty and full of detritus, it’s nothing but an ugly mask concealing the green grass underneath.

It’s almost certain there will be another snowfall or two before spring really does arrive. A snowfall after warm weather is a cruel trick to play on anyone who just wants winter to end and spring to begin.

A lot of people try to remedy the late winter discontent with trips to southern tropical places. I already did that in January, so it won’t be happening again, unless Highway 416 southbound from Ottawa is considered tropical.

This time of year, I always find myself thinking about where the spring to fall hiking and camping will take place. Road maps and park websites provide some incentive to endure the days of slush and mud we’re in right now. I’m trying to remind myself that the late winter sinus infection I’m taking antibiotics for will soon be gone. My face will no longer feel like the time it got punched in a schoolyard fight, and my sense of smell will be functioning in time to appreciate the scent of spring. I really hope March goes out like a lamb.