It is inspiriting to feel the increased heat of the sun reflected from the snow.

February 23. 

9 A. M. — To Fair Haven Pond, up river. 

A still warmer day. The snow is so solid that it still bears me, though we have had several warm suns on it. It is melting gradually under the sun. 

In the morning I make but little impression in it. As it melts, it acquires a rough but regularly waved surface. 

I sit by a maple. It wears the same shaggy coat of lichens summer and winter.

It is inspiriting to feel the increased heat of the sun reflected from the snow. There is a slight mist above the fields, through which the crowing of cocks sounds springlike. 

At 2 P. M. the thermometer is 47°. Whenever it is near 40 there is a speedy softening of the snow. 

I read in the papers that the ocean is frozen, — not to bear or walk on safely, —or has been lately, on the back side of Cape Cod; at the Highland Light, one mile out from the shore. A phenomenon which, it is said, the oldest have not witnessed before.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, February 23, 1856

It is inspiriting to feel the increased heat of the sun reflected from the snow. See February 23, 1857 ("I have seen signs of the spring.") See also February 12, 1856 ("the sunlight over thawing snow . . . excites me strangely, and I experience a springlike melting in my thoughts")

There is a slight mist above the fields, through which the crowing of cocks sounds springlike.  See  February 16, 1856 ("The sun is most pleasantly warm on my cheek; the melting snow shines in the ruts; the cocks crow more than usual in barns; my greatcoat is an incumbrance"); . February 24, 1852 ("I am reminded of spring by the quality of the air."); See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Signs of the Spring: The crowing of cocks, the cawing of crows.

I read in the papers that the ocean is frozen. . . on the back side of Cape Cod. See January 20, 1857 (" I hear that Boston Harbor froze over on the 18th, down to Fort Independence.")

The Winter of 1855-56 was the coldest winter of the 1850s. Donald Sutherland, The Long, Hard Winter of 1855-56