Spring continues to confound me. Today dawned warm and muggy. Late this morning, the skies darkened ominously.
Rain came in torrential sheets, whipping and swirling about.
Spring manifests itself in fits and starts most years. A balmy day here, a dreary frost-bitten day there.
This year, SPRING is brazen, full-on, muscling its way in relentlessly. The north forty I leave each morning is a whole different animal than the north forty I return to in the evening.
I am fearful the fleeting, tender beauty of this season will slip through my fingers and be gone.
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