It was in the 60’s, the snow was melting, and the sun was out. We decided to head out and see what the woods looked like on such a welcome spring day.

A stop at the vernal pool didn’t seem like it would be too promising. But despite the ice…

…I saw the first tadpole of the year.

There’s something incongruous about the stealth of such a plump fellow darting along in his underwater world. I was glad to see him.

He wasn’t the only one enjoying the water. A big snapping turtle was floating on the pond, bleary-eyed. There were many ducks around the area, and I wondered if they realized he was there. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near him if I was a duck.

We took our dog Lucy. She had a blast, of course.

We certainly appreciated her supervision playing in the stream. Where would we be without someone to catch every splash?

But I felt an unexpected sadness, remembering how our old dog, Katie, who died over a year ago, used to love coming here too. I remembered how we had to leave her at home toward the end because she was so unwell, and she’d stand at the back window and watch us drive away. Memories are a part of these familiar places. Rest in peace, Katie.

We needed the warmth and sun, and we saw a number of other people out and about in the woods too. All of us are ready for the snow to be gone — even though it means the season of mud begins. It was good to be out and feel the balminess and promise of spring.