Online some people have been threatening to do nasty things to the poor groundhog, all because snow fell after the spring equinox. Get a grip, people. Any critter who didn’t see her shadow in my town on February 2 should see her optometrist posthaste, and besides, this is New England. Snow is unusual in May (but it does happen). It’s not unusual in March.

Yes indeed, it snowed last night, four or five inches of fluffy white stuff. Beautiful. I pulled boots on over my bare feet and went out in my bathrobe to take a couple of pictures. The snow was deep enough that the front door had to be pushed open, but the snow was light and easy to push.

Down there somewhere is Trav’s outside water bowl, the mold for my dog dish ice art. True, we’ve had some chilly nights and days when the temperature hasn’t got much above freezing, but most of March’s ice disks have been both fragile and ephemeral. February’s were much sturdier — but not as sturdy as January’s.

I don’t need any rodent to tell me that spring’s on the way. Trav’s water dish tells me everything I need to know.

The purple chair that messed up my back is still out on the deck, waiting to take its last ride to the dump. At first I tried to protect it from the elements, but the wind kept blowing the tarp off. Finally I gave up.

So is the humble outdoor chair gloating at the formerly privileged indoor chair that’s been left on the deck to fend for itself?

I don’t know. I’m not privy to the secret life of chairs, if indeed chairs have a secret life.

I am, however, privy to the not-so-secret thoughts of certain dogs. This dog is thinking “Will you get your butt in gear so we can go for a walk?”

Off we went. Trav dashed back and forth in the snow. I took a picture of my neighbors’ roof. If I could ski up the roof, I’d fly into the wild blue yonder.

If you’ve seen one snowy bike path picture, you’ve pretty much seen them all.

Here’s a new one, though: one of the signposts that marks intersections on the state forest’s grid.

For the rest, feel free to revisit a walk Trav and I took in mid-February.

I never get tired of Travvy pics, though. To judge from the comments I get, most of you don’t either.

Trav has got a new buddy. This is a woman who runs regularly on the bike path. Lately our schedule has synced with hers, so we’ve run into her often. She makes a fuss about Trav. Trav makes a fuss about her.

This morning Trav spotted her coming when all I saw was a dark speck that could have been a tree way down by Misty Meadows. The closer she came, the more excited Trav got. He trotted toward her. When I didn’t trot fast enough, he started gyrating in the kind of airs above the ground that he usually reserves for the UPS man. When they finally met in mid-path, it was all wiggle wriggle and let me lick your face.

What makes this really remarkable is that (unlike the UPS man) this woman doesn’t carry cookies and has never given Travvy one. Trav, it seems, is less mercenary than I thought.

Cottonball tree

The tree below went down some time ago — Hurricane Sandy? Travvy and I have been using it ever since for “send over jump” practice. Trav likes to jump. Usually he jumps over, then back, then over again before we move on.