Fuzzy snow

I used to hate the end of winter when all the snow started melting, and everything was a muddy mess. Today it was pure blissful beauty. Today the mud and dead leaves smelled sweeter than they ever have before. On our walk, Eli pointed out two kinds of snow. Hard snow was the kind piled up in banks, still frozen from being plowed, shoveled, and packed tightly, over and over again. Then there was what he called fuzzy snow, the snow that was melting fast on front lawns, making a beautiful muddy mess, crunching under foot. Here he is crunching fuzzy snow. I sincerely hope no more fluffy snow blows our way. It is only February, though, so that might be a long shot.