The satisfaction of the first days of spring when you can open all the windows and feel for the first time in months the tickle and smell of outside air sneaking in, caressing everything with a reassurance that says “you can wake up now, the worst is over.” A new reserve of hope and possibility ignites just as the weighted days of winter recess back into the folded, soon to be ignored pile of a season past. Dormant and sullen until it is welcomed again fresh and exciting in its own newness.

Nothing about winter is new or welcome in April. It is done in our minds and souls and should be gone. Back to the cabinets and boxes and memories only, not now, no more.

Snow in April is a wickedness like no other. Pulling out snow boots and snow pants to cover the legs of eager children wanting to play and roll, but who are immediately unhappy to be cold. Because it’s been weeks since the final unforgivable last days of March and our bodies are quick to forget.

Snow in April is beautiful, but not welcome, like a spider on a toilet seat. It was quick to retreat, melting and falling with slowly invisible with embarrassment. You should be ashamed of yourself, April Snow.

Today was cold and tomorrow will be warm.