There comes a time in the life of a snowbank when it must melt and slide away into the gutter, and accept that the winter was what it was and that the brutal season of cold and ice and “I’ll show you” weather patterns have grown stale.

In these days the sun may emerge and the snow grows dirty and garbage may surface, things that were left in the snowpack back in October or November, or whenever it was that the snow fell, and who even remembers?

Birds may alight on this dying snowpack, and pick out the blue things (orthodontic rubber bands, Tiffany boxes) to take to their nest to attract a mate.  It’s fine.  That’s what they like to do so don’t judge.

Children attempting to sled on this kind of snow may end of very frustrated, with wet mittens and sock edges.  This is the time to distract them with movies.

Dog walkers and artistic persons who self-identify as being “visually oriented” may object to this crusty, dirty phase; not just for its aesthetic problems but also for the rise in river levels it causes, which may also lead to erosion and bike trail washout.  Well guess what?  There’s no alternative, unless someone feels like building a glass dome over the city and plugging about 200,000 air conditioners into it and revving up a giant snow machine so we can keep our filthy junk and dirt packs covered up with  fresh, albeit fake, snow.  It’s just not gonna happen;  mainly because the city would have to tow twice as many cars as it did this winter to fund such a project, and there are a lot more people who would rather give in and take the bus than have to amp up their winter parking vigilance, which already requires unsustainable levels of adrenaline pumpage.

And so we deal with the dirt.

Do you know about pica?  It’s an iron deficiency so severe that some people need to emerge from their homes and eat dirt and rocks just to feel better.   That may be somebody’s lunch you’re wanting to sweep away.

Just leave it.  It’s fine for now.