It snowed over the weekend, which is not as unusual at it sounds. Springtime in The Rockies can be a test of will, and this one certainly has been no different: cold and wet one day, sunny and warm the next (but almost always with a treacherous and hateful wind). It's been exhausting to say the least.
The one good thing about it is that snow and ice over grass and blossoms and new leaves can be a beautiful thing. So while Duncan ambles along the slick grass, his weight cracking the thin layer of ice that congeals across the surface of the sharpening green each night, I keep my eyes on the billion suns reflected on the countless blades and in the melting run-of. The mornings are aglow and as the sun slowly creeps up the sky a vein of silver runs through our world, reminding me that all good things are worth waiting for and that the return of summer is one of the few promises that cannot be broken.