Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason,
And bow and accept the end
Of a love or a season?
-from “Reluctance” by Robert Frost
Frost wrote this poem with autumn in mind, but for me, his words are just as relevant in late March.
When it comes to the end of winter, I am in a happy, catch-a-snowflake-on-your-tongue minority. I am a hanger-on.
This is a good thing where I live, way up north on Lake Champlain, because winter does some serious hanging-on in these parts, too. Lots of people have started complaining about that. But I still find myself hoping for one more fluffy snowstorm, even as the calendar stares down April.
On Monday, E and I drove into the Adirondacks in search of enough snow for one last cross country ski outing. We found it at the Paul Smiths Visitors Interpretive Center – a site with miles and miles of beautiful trails. This one was our favorite -
A bridge stretches all the way across the marsh, and then the trail loops around the other side. We spotted snowshoe hare, deer, fox, red squirrel, and fisher tracks along the way.
Soon, the tulips will bloom and the ice will clear out of the lake enough for kayaking, and I’ll be excited about that. But this week, it was a gift to have one more winter day in the woods.