The glow of the porch lights grows as the twisted bulbs warm up. The light spreads across the back lawn and I can see it. My worst fear has been realized as I look and the remnants of a long cold winter are revealed. The once pristine, beautiful, glistening snow has been replaced with a disgusting dirty mess that extends well beyond the reaches of the light.
On the left, it’s road grim, left by the snow blower, spreading out from the driveway like waves; jagged little sideways mountains of grayish black dirt highlighted by the glowing snow underneath. And that’s the good part.
To the right, it looks like the cratered surface of the moon. Divots of sunken dog prints litter the area in a sea of large bluish ice chunks. The ice chunks are a stark contrast against the white and grey snow. They appear to have been haphazardly stacked as a barrier from the worst part of the new landscape.
In the last stretches of bulbs, the divots increase tenfold and so do the moon rocks. They are scattered everywhere. One, two, sometimes three fresh moon rocks a day had been randomly placed in the fresh white snow. Now as the snow retreats back toward the lawn, the moon rocks stand tall on little pillars of snow. Disgusting little reminders of a job left undone. Little reminders I had hoped would magically dissolve, oh how wrong i was.
I try to form words as I look out on this devastated waste land, but all I can muster is a guttural sigh of disgust. And then in the absolute end of this overwhelmed region, just able to be seen in the darkness is Emery, carefully placing a new moon rock.