This would be a very sad start to the day, except that I remember the snow is a reminder not to rush things, to slow down. Enjoy the sound of the slow dripping from the roofline and the early babbles of the streams. The late winter snow encourages us to wait a few more weeks to start to rake up the fall leaves and dead grass from the yard. Spring will come, mud season and all, when it is time. The ground will slowly thaw down to the bottom of the old compost pile, so it can be dug into the gardens to fertilize the summer vegetables. The chickens will soon have plenty of green shoots to scratch at and ticks to eat from the yard. The wild birds will build their nests and sing to the glory of the sunrise, soon. And the spring flowers will bring happiness across yards and hillsides. For now it is March madness.
Snow is actually a benefit to your garden and yard, even this late in the winter. Even though it feels cold to us, snow is an insulator. Like an igloo the snow will actually keep the ground warmer. A covering of snow keeps the soil from freezing further and further deep into the soil which would thus damage the deep roots of trees and shrubs. We still have had low temperatures at night, the snow actually keeps those little shoots protected from early spring frosts.
Snow also provides moisture to the soil as it slowly melts. Since we had a nice foot of wet snow at our house, this will probably be close to almost three inches of water and nutrients replenishing the ground. The temperatures and sunshine have kept our snow melting slowly, allowing it to percolate and soak down into the soil, depositing helpful fertilizer along the way. This will benefit both my garden and my well for the coming needs when Spring arrives to fully awaken my plants.
So, I will not rush it; I will slow down and enjoy the moment. The path to the chicken coop is down to the old brown grass of last fall on my early morning trip out. I dodge the melting snow dripping from the chicken coop roof to collect six eggs from the nesting boxes. At the top of my hill the snow has melted away from the steps to reveal the red tinged emerging leaves of tulips and a few grass like spikes of crocus too. My children have packed down one final sled run for the year, carefully sculpted around where they know the snow drops are hiding, underneath the now only three inches of wet snow. I will return to my shed to sharpen my square edged shovel, collect my weed buckets, gather my loppers and my clippers for the spring clean up that I know is coming very soon.
I will slow down for one last time before the crazy, rushing babble of spring carries us well downstream into the hot days of summer.