Our Maine Street's Aroostook Issue 28 : Spring 2016 | Page 13

Springtime
Depressions:

Dealing with the
Holes in the Road
by Catherine Shaw Bowker

And, indeed it is a very pleasant thing for to ride
forth in the dawning of a Springtime day. For then the
little birds do sing their sweetest song, all joining in one
joyous medley, where of one may scarce tell
one note from another, so multitudinous is that
pretty roundelay; then do the growing things of the earth
smell the sweetest in the freshness of the early daytime –
the fair flowers, the shrubs, and the blossoms
upon the trees; then doth the dew bespangle all
the sward as with an incredible multitude of jewels of
various colors; then all the world sweet and clean and
new…

sort of new. And then they appear – potholes.

While pothole has many definitions, from a great fishing
hole to a gorge created in river rocks, the pothole I speak
of is the cavity in the road caused by traffic and bad
weather. Not limited to progressive societies, folklore
has it that the ancient Romans had their share of road
hazards. Lore says that ancient Roman potters gathered
clay for their pots from the roads, naturally leaving a
hole in the road – thus, Pot Hole. Since most ancient
Roman roads consisted of stone, sand, and lime, not
clay, this is an unlikely etymology of the word. However,
archaeologists recently discovered evidence of potholes
This description of spring from Howard Pyle’s book, just outside Devon, England in what is thought to be an
The Story of Kin