This was my backyard about a month ago. We had an ice storm here in Ontario just before Christmas and along with losing power for a few days over the holidays, we also lost a lot of tree branches. My property isn’t huge – although a big lot by “suburb” standards – but we have several large maple trees over 50 years old. Nature pruned them for us courtesy of sleet and ice and the upshot is my son has a hell of a lot of fort building material and we won’t want for camping firewood for years to come.
It was a strangely gothic albeit pretty scene during the winter. Bare grey branches stuck up out of the soft snow like bony fingers through a blanket. But because it snowed almost constantly for the last few months we never realized the extent of the damage until the melt, which only just finished.
Now my lawn looks decidedly less mystical and actually quite horrific. The grass needed a good cut in late October but it never happened because the snow came swift and early. Now it’s long and matted and flopped over like a bad comb-over. The garden hose is looped around old scooters and a camp chair and rakes and snow shovels are still propped against the house. Dead leaves that blew in from under the fence are soaking wet and likely sheltering new forms of aquatic life in the newly formed sludge hole at the back of the yard where the ground is naturally lower. I tried to get to the shed today at the rear of my lawn, but lacking a dorsal fin made the journey difficult and I gave up.
It’s bad back there; a real shithole, as it were. Because it’s finally warm today I thought to assess the damage and see what I’d have to do to get this place in shape for spring. I can see now that “matches” will feature high on the list.
Maybe we’ll just move.