It’s the first day of April and it’s spitting snow, a nasty April Fools’ joke if I ever saw one.
They say it will be cold for the first half of the week but then spring will come, sunshine and 50s and maybe the daffodils that poked their heads through the dirt, then languished for weeks, will finally bloom.
It’s April but the only flowers we have now are snow drops and crocuses, those first harbingers of spring.
On Easter the rain was cold but I wore the short dress anyway, painted my nails for the first time since — I don’t know. I think since before she was born. Her spring-y Easter dress came off right after church for the long-sleeves and full pants the weather called for.
It spat snow this morning on the way to her babysitter’s and she started at it as if she saw it for the first time. And maybe she did – there wasn’t a wind so she wasn’t hiding her soft face in my coat.
But this afternoon the sun came out and the sky is bright blue and the birds are loud. And while the air is still cold the sunshine seems more fitting for April.