The thunderheads had been building up all day, erasing the "if" and leaving the "when" it was going to unleash the wet drops of water. It didn't take long, but at last you could smell the rain as it traveled over the road, across the lawn, and up our porch. The early spring shower was a welcome sight after the icky slushy snow that had been lingering for the past few weeks.
Animals could feel the change in the seasons approaching. A rabbit dashed from its hole to the security of a fallen tree while two robins sparred in the air. Squirrels were out, replenishing their depleted winter stock, and the neighborhood dogs paused to greet the new scent of Spring.
Joggers were out running, even though they would consider this weather to be too cold in a couple month's time. I should be one of them, I thought. Oh well, another week won't hurt. Already I'm thinking of the park and of the river. Pieces of writing well up inside me, awakening from their frosty hibernation. I write on any scrap of paper I can find, hoping not to lose it. Life is waking from it's slumber, and it's ready to begin. Are you?
