Spring is on us, or so they said.    Last weekend, we sprung our clocks ahead but sprang not out of bed.

I know what you’re thinking.  Did Ben Franklin pen that rhyme when he sent his “Essay on Daylight Saving” to the Editor of the Journal of Paris in 1784?   Au contraire, shockingly, it’s a Wedwand original.   “Go fly a kite, really?”   But watch out for lightening.

Speaking of inclement weather, much of the US has endured a harsh winter.  Perpetual snow, blizzards, ice storms and all around awful weather abounded across much of the nation in 2014.  It even rained in California.

Soon it will end.  It has to, doesn’t it?

In winters like these, there’s a progression.  The first freshly fallen snow looks pristine as the flakes filter from the sky and initially cover the ground with the winter wonderland of white.

However, day after day, week after week, what was once a wonderland becomes an annoyance.  So far over 75 inches of annoyance thus far this winter in my hometown. 

Will it ever end?   It seemed so here.  At least when Wedwand penned the first draft of this entry on Monday, the temperatures hovered near 50 degrees.  Shirtsleeve weather in Chicago.  So I took the camel for a ride around the hood to enjoy the balmy temperatures.

But what did we find?   All those piles of pristine white snow that were shoveled and plowed turns into “dirty snow” as it melts.  Grey gloomy piles of sludge is all that remains after the thaw as a reminder of what was an awful winter.    

In between the freshly fallen snow of winter and the green grass, chirping birds and blooming flowers of spring looms a season not yet named.

We shall call it, “The Season Of Sludge.”  (Or, SOS if you will.)

Not much has been written of it, much less photographed, so Wedwand wanders into uncharted territories here with this perfectly abysmal pictorial essay.

Tell Me About The Rabbits, George


Apparently at some time during the sub zero temperatures and biting wind chills, rabbits laid claim to a portion of the yard and left their signature on the tundra.  (If you connect the dots, you can vaguely make out an image of Gracie Slick singing “White Rabbit”.  Don’t believe me, go ask Alice when she’s ten feet tall.) 

The Roof


The roof, the roof, the roof is on the ground, remnants of one of the winter wind storms. Have you had your shingles vaccination?

I Got All My Concrete With Me


Ya gotta sing that line out loud to get the “Sister Sledge” reference.  “We Are Family”,  dirty snow, broken concrete and cracked streets captured in one shot.

All Of The Other Reindeer.                                                    


A hopeful soul just can’t say no to those darned Christmas decorations and leaves them still on display in March.  Maybe there’s one in your neighborhood.  (Likely because there hasn’t been a weekend warm enough so far to take them down.)

City Sidewalks, Busy Sidewalks


They’re no longer dressed in holiday style.  What was once a white snow path during Christmas has turned in an entire block of grey sludge.  One Way or another, it’s gotta end soon.

Curb Appeal


The local strip mall parking lot is looking mighty fine in the Season Of Sludge.  Spring, wherefore art thou?

Gosh, I almost depressed myself with those featured photos.  Let’s just call it a public service presentation for those of you in Florida, Arizona and assorted tropical islands so you know what the thaw looks like here.

But, to end on up note:

A camel, a rabbit and a reindeer walk into a bar carrying a hunk of concrete.  Their order?  Three beers and one for the road.