We did get some snow, at the very tail-end of winter.1 It probably didn’t freeze hard enough to put a dent in the slug/snail population come true spring, but it was pretty and the dogs enjoyed themselves. Well, Miss B enjoyed herself immensely; Boxnoggin was reluctant (it was a Change, and Change is Bad) for his first few trips outside.
Then he decided he quite liked the dry, powdery stuff, and you can see the tracks where he bounded, ran, and wriggled.
Of course, once it warmed a bit everything got sloppy-slushy, and he hated that. In fact, he was certain I’d done it to punish him, and there were many reproachful looks. But now everything is melted and he’s forgotten such a thing as snow ever existed. I’m sure he’ll relearn at some point in the future.
But for now, all has returned to what passes for normal, and spring is approaching. The hydrangea and honeysuckle have green buds, the cherry down the street is still blooming, crocuses are everywhere. And there are bees hitching rides in my hair while I run again.
I almost miss the quiet of the snow. Almost.