The rain that slammed onto the church roof this morning has given way to one inch white flakes.
Vermont's reminder that spring is nowhere to be sprung.
At least not for another two months or so.
I rather enjoy the amnesia I get every year.
I delight in the later sunsets and I groan at March's cold temper.
It was a year ago, on an unseasonably warm day in March that I looked at the kitchen wall and declared it must be yellow.
With the hopes of moving by the summer, I wonder if on the next warm day the urge to paint will have us covering the cheery lemon with snowy white.
The same snowy white that is falling from the sky. Keeping us in a shadow of winter.
I forget, as a often do, if I will make it through this bleak month with my sanity intact.
It will be a lovely surprise if so.
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