The sidewalks are bare. Grass is peeking through the skimpy snow cover that is quickly melting into the ever expanding puddles in the roadway. The temperatures are cresting near fifty degrees. It is just barely February right? I even got to spend this gorgeous afternoon after work going for a walk outdoors with Emily.
Part of me is quite sad. My snowmobile has sat this entire season. Its disuse makes me question the investment we make in that expensive hobby annually. I also have yet to be able to sit at home and enjoy a good, quiet snowfall. The other part of me is happy that spring may come quick. Greens may grow sooner than expected. Perhaps mud season won't linger like last year after an excessive season of snow.
So far, this season is the winter that never was, or just plain isn't. There's been some ice and a tiny bit of snow, but anytime I can wear short sleeves in Vermont on the first of February indicates a winter fail. However, I know I need to not discount the next six weeks of weather. A nor'easter could barrel across New England next week and then I'll probably be complaining about shoveling the driveway. There's still plenty of time for winter to decide that it is.