Rocks in the road.

I guess it's safe to say winter is over now. It's been spring for a month. The snow is all gone at last. Even the last of the snirt has faded away. 

Snirt, Parking Lot, April 13

The first round of the hockey playoffs are over. At least for the Devils. 

So winter is gone, although temperatures still hover around freezing in the morning. And the damage is still being fixed. Below is a picture of a small brick walkway that had a brief encounter with an enormous plow blade. 

Those got pushed back into place, but the grass that got scraped up was not so easily fixed. Worse was alongside the driveway, where the truck plowed up a large swath of lawn. It took me 11 bags of topsoil to fill the gouge, plus a mess of overpriced grass seed.

Last fall I asked some guys to go up on the roof and replace any missing shingles. A big windstorm last week took off one more shingle. I have neither the ladders nor the height tolerance to go fix it myself, but it's a clearly visible gap from the street. I don't want to drop another C-note to fix one shingle. Doggone it.

It's all part of the game when you're a dazzling suburbanite.

I guess my point is, assuming I have one, that winter is one of two seasons that makes it presence known after the fact, especially when it takes so goldurn long to go away. Spring burns off in the heat of summer, and summer fades, and they both do so quickly. Winter causes a lot of damage, directly or incidentally, that tends to linger into spring. Fall is the only other season that reminds you it has passed, and that's because it dumps dead leaves and crap all over the joint. And yet, in every other aspect of life, it takes a long time to create something and no time at all to destroy it.

Ah, entropy! Ah, humanity!