The windows are open and a warm breeze circulates through the house. Wind chimes clang in the breeze and a neighbor’s lilac bush is blooming. The smell of charcoal barbeques floats through the warm air and children laughing and screaming can be heard throughout the neighborhood. My children come to me for hugs with warm and rosy cheeks. Their heads smell sweet; full of sunshine and sunscreen. I drink it in as the sun kisses my face and brings out my freckles.
It is 87 degrees, yet it is only April.
We are expecting snow next week.
Nooo. The last sentence of this post makes me want to cry.
Spring is cruel that way. My friend is getting married next weekend and she is freaking out about the weather forecast.
Oh Spring, you’re such a tease.