I came back in from my last snowshoeing exercise of this season. I think so. No, I am positive.
The deep snow is melting inch by inch, hour by hour. It will no longer be there at my disposal for making tracks like the deer and rabbits—we all leave behind something of ourselves on the path for others to notice if they truly see what's ahead.
I need the fresh outdoor air to clear out the cobwebs, stretch tight limbs and bring clean air to my lungs. One benefits the other. It's the spontaneous wonder of dropping what I am doing, and taking a break.
The sun's rays overhead are not to be diminished either. They put a positive spin on even the worst of the problems I am facing. ( I can't say that any pressing issues hindered the pure joy of the moment today.)
I won't do it today. Tomorrow, I will pack away the snowshoes, poles and assorted hats, scarves and mittens that I keep ready near the backdoor. I am not going to check The Farmer's Almanac for their opinion either.