It happens in March, it'll happen at least once in April, and nobody's saying it'll never happen in May. White rain is all it is. That's what I remind the boys when a glance out the window causes groans to follow them down the stairs in the morning. It's just white rain whipping sideways and sticking to the north faces of trees, buildings, fence posts.
Spring is not always green. And it'll be 76° on Thursday.
After a brutally cold winter and more snow than we've seen in our eight Wyoming years, I have to say, spring feels amazing, even the very wet days; even the white days. It reminds us that a pot of soup is still the best idea, that the inside projects get attention today, that, under the white layer, green is growing fast.
But for now, the snow shovel.