The sky over to the west is deep grey, washed out, refracting the sun overhead; the storm is over. The late afternoon sun trickles out, creating rainbows in the puddles. Raindrops are turned to diamonds as they cling to brilliant green leaves, letting go to splash (plink, plop!) to the mud below. Birds call out, snails glide slowly across the rocks, worms burrow out of hiding. At the foot of the hill, a gentle river of run off flows, washing the grass off my feet, from between my toes. It laughs and gurgles it's way to the woods and the brush pile where the wild, brown bunnies live. For this moment, I am alive!
For all my friends up north tired of feet and feet of snow, I leave you warm wishes of the coming Spring.