J.R. Johnson

Yesterday’s rain was doing a great job of washing away the last of the snow, and a little spark told me that spring might finally be here.

A few days ago I went for a walk through the neighborhood with Mr Man. A cool breeze but bright sun, and every other driveway was occupied by an optimist with summer tires. Mr Man shook his head. Too early, he said. He was right. 

We woke this morning to snow. Big, fat flakes coating the ground, the trees, the everything in a layer of white. It won’t last, but we still have a few more days before spring makes its true entrance.

Can’t wait.

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