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- Story Listed as: True Life For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Nature & Wildlife
- Published: 06/26/2021
I love living in northwestern Pennsylvania where the climate ensures four season living. Even winter gives us beautiful days. I’m moved by the early morning sight of new-fallen snow hanging heavy on tree limbs and clear deep blue skies. Holiday lights on homes and city streets frame Christmas-card pictures while skiers enjoy the snow-packed mountains and cross-country trails. Children are sledding on any hill they can find.
By March every year––I’m tired of it. Why won’t winter let go? It’s time to give it up. I hate the black-covered snow the plows have left at curbside, and the brown mud and gravel at the edge of the roads. Even the morning coffee-clutch at MacDonald’s is tired of it. The game of guessing what day the ugly ten-foot pile of snow will finally disappear from Top’s parking lot is not fun anymore. Nobody cares who will win the pool. It’s a war. Every year a bedraggled winter fighting for its life against a brash young spring trying to take over. It’s the same for all the seasons.
I recently discovered that I enjoy a serial view of this epic battle of the seasons with at least a weekly stroll on the well-maintained walking path that follows a mountain stream on the grounds of the University.
On the surrounding hills a dark oasis of spiked pines pokes above a sea of maples and poplars. The subtle hues of green that spot the hills will soon be ocean swells protecting the valley like a comforter. Still, many stark gray sticks reach skyward, straining to be like their green sisters, to remind us of a harsh winter not long gone. Small openings offer a glimpse of flowering cherry and apple trees; they are teasers for the summer yet to come.
I sit awhile in the gazebo. Fallen trees that did not survive the winter lie beneath the water of a shallow pond like underwater sea serpents. A twiggy branch stretches above the water, a precarious perch for chickadees. A slab of trunk breaks the surface, a sun porch for turtles and frogs.
I cheer for a cluster of daffodils, their yellow stars standing tall, lording it over the dandelions, which have sent but three scouts looking for spring on the soccer field. Hurray for the daffodils!
Alas, within a week, I fear the brave daffodils have lost the battle; reduced to furled rusty blobs. A vast horde of bad boy dandelions, now in formation on the east end of the soccer field, stand ready to advance to their brother scouts scattered the length of the field. The wars go on.
But they know not what awaits them–the grim reaper, John Deere, who in another week will slay them by the thousands. Ha! Revenge.
The War of the Seasons(Richard Marcott)
I love living in northwestern Pennsylvania where the climate ensures four season living. Even winter gives us beautiful days. I’m moved by the early morning sight of new-fallen snow hanging heavy on tree limbs and clear deep blue skies. Holiday lights on homes and city streets frame Christmas-card pictures while skiers enjoy the snow-packed mountains and cross-country trails. Children are sledding on any hill they can find.
By March every year––I’m tired of it. Why won’t winter let go? It’s time to give it up. I hate the black-covered snow the plows have left at curbside, and the brown mud and gravel at the edge of the roads. Even the morning coffee-clutch at MacDonald’s is tired of it. The game of guessing what day the ugly ten-foot pile of snow will finally disappear from Top’s parking lot is not fun anymore. Nobody cares who will win the pool. It’s a war. Every year a bedraggled winter fighting for its life against a brash young spring trying to take over. It’s the same for all the seasons.
I recently discovered that I enjoy a serial view of this epic battle of the seasons with at least a weekly stroll on the well-maintained walking path that follows a mountain stream on the grounds of the University.
On the surrounding hills a dark oasis of spiked pines pokes above a sea of maples and poplars. The subtle hues of green that spot the hills will soon be ocean swells protecting the valley like a comforter. Still, many stark gray sticks reach skyward, straining to be like their green sisters, to remind us of a harsh winter not long gone. Small openings offer a glimpse of flowering cherry and apple trees; they are teasers for the summer yet to come.
I sit awhile in the gazebo. Fallen trees that did not survive the winter lie beneath the water of a shallow pond like underwater sea serpents. A twiggy branch stretches above the water, a precarious perch for chickadees. A slab of trunk breaks the surface, a sun porch for turtles and frogs.
I cheer for a cluster of daffodils, their yellow stars standing tall, lording it over the dandelions, which have sent but three scouts looking for spring on the soccer field. Hurray for the daffodils!
Alas, within a week, I fear the brave daffodils have lost the battle; reduced to furled rusty blobs. A vast horde of bad boy dandelions, now in formation on the east end of the soccer field, stand ready to advance to their brother scouts scattered the length of the field. The wars go on.
But they know not what awaits them–the grim reaper, John Deere, who in another week will slay them by the thousands. Ha! Revenge.
Lillian Kazmierczak
10/10/2021Happy star story of the day! Your tour of winter to spring was so descriptive. I love all four seasons and I appreciate you're reminiscences of both. Some wonderful writing I especially loved the McD’s table reference.
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Richard Marcott
10/11/2021Thank you, Lillian. Ah, the boys at McD's are never without a debate though. Now it's when the leaves will color, bright or dull, and why. You gotta love them.
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Gerald R Gioglio
10/10/2021Richard, loved the ds descriptions. The views are familiar, four seasons out here in Colorado...not so much. Thanks, GRG
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Shirley Smothers
10/10/2021A entertaining read. Yes the seasons do battle it out. Summer begrudingly gives way to Autumn. All seasons stubbornly cling on. Thank you for sharing.
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Help Us Understand What's Happening
Kevin Hughes
10/10/2021Hello hi Richard,
As a kid who grew up in northeastern Ohio Dash very close to Pennsylvania I am an eyewitness to the war as you describe. Wonderful. As you can tell by the thread you caught at all. A painter could've done better with the brush than you did with a pen.
Smiles Kevin
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Richard Marcott
10/10/2021thank you, Kevin. I love your comparing my prose to a painting. No higher praise. Thank you.
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Bernardo Mendes
10/10/2021Richard, the quality of your writing when describing the yearly battle of the seasons is amazing. I've never been to Pennsylvania but I almost feel like, if I close my eyes I can go there! An extremely well-written story!
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Richard Marcott
10/10/2021What a nice thought, Bernardo. I hope you get the chance to visit some day. The seasonal changes are magic.
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Gail Moore
10/10/2021Beautiful story, my favourite season is spring also, I am patiently waiting for all the red maple trees to blossom as it is spring here at the moment.
I found an entire field of beautiful flowers the other day while out walking. Just stunning.
Great story :-)
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Richard Marcott
10/10/2021Thank you, Gail. We are now in the October transition as the colorful fall leaves push out the summer and announce the winter to come. Our maples, long since blossomed, are not dropping their red leaves.
Mid October is usually the height of fall color. Thanks again--think Spring.
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JD
10/09/2021Beautifully written 'battle' scenes. Happy short story STAR of the day, Richard! :-)
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Richard Marcott
10/10/2021Thank you, JD. I appreciate being a selected story. It means more sharing, which I enjoy.
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Bonnie Stevens
06/28/2021Oh I love the image of winter but you're right the black slush is terrible and the salt on the e cars.
There is a battle going on in the seasons and this sorry took me there. Lovely
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Richard Marcott
06/28/2021Thanks, Bonnie.
Each season has it's own battle. But Spring taking over from winter is my favorite. It's like moving from the depression back into the sunlight of life.
COMMENTS (9)