The sun is higher, warmer and daylight is stretching to the early evening hours. Before I hung the snow shoes on the hook for the last time, I went for a trek along the Wapack Trail in the afternoon. Alice was excited to go somewhere/anywhere. The drifts and hollows proved too much for her short legs so she huffed along behind me, occasionally stepping on the tail of my snow shoe and causing me to lurch forward. We crossed a marsh that hadn’t been touched with the excepting of a large coyote who had passed by the night before.
The tracks were soft with age but held the lingering aroma of something wild and caught Alice’s full attention.
When we made it out to the actual Wapack Trail, a cross country skier had left their mark. This made the going easier as one foot at a time could use the packed path. At the brook that never freezes, we saw signs of a struggle. Apparently the skier had attempted to cross below the natural rock steps and fallen into the stream.
As to the sheets? Time to retire flannel for crisp cotton, open the windows at night and wait for the sweet song of the peeper toads announcing spring.