I have looked at the weather forecast, and while it won't be as nice as I'd like there should be just enough sunshine and warmth to finally coax a green aura from our trees. With any luck this time next week Duncan and I will be walking through all the glory of a Spring we here on the Front Range have more than earned.
March and April are our snowiest months and it's not unheard of to get snow in May, but there was something a little disheartening about the amount of snow and cold we got on May Day, when we should have been picking flowers. Duncan, of course, was ecstatic though, running in circles through the stuff, rolling in it and snorting it while I marveled at his exuberance. It was short-lived however, because a day later it was as though nothing had happened.
For instance, this was a photo I took in the park on May 1st:
And then the same patch of sidewalk, with the same tree twenty-four hours later:
You would think Dunc, who loves winter as much as I love the sun and his dad, wouldn't have been as happy as I was. But Duncan loves this world and this place we call home in all seasons, for whatever it sends our way. He is not picky for he knows that life is wondrous and marvelous and beautiful at all times.
Sunshine dancing on the tips of blades of grass are just as sweet to him as the falling flakes that tickle his nose.