Yesterday the temperature crept up above 30, and the big melt continued in earnest today. The front eaves of the house are melting in the morning sun, the icicles thudding as they fall. Water drips from every irregular joint and corner of the roof, in some spots streaming down into puddles. When I’m quiet, I can hear the gurgle of water running away under the snow, a mysterious subtle noise that can only occur when the ground is still frozen.
The birds were out in force this morning, hopping up the trees, playing tag, and sipping from the patio’s puddles, as if a spoonful of water were a luxury.