So fair, so cold, like a morning of pale spring
still clinging to winter's chill.
--J. R. R. Tolkein
Yesterday's weather was so deliciously warm and summery,
it was hard for me to imagine that it had ever been winter.
Secretly, I nurtured a naive hope that winter was finally only a memory.
Yet this morning the temperature plummeted,
and a pallor of gray clouds obscured the sun.
By afternoon, a fitful rain began, then eased, then began again--
the rain clouds were reluctant to commit.
But I noticed Bradford pear trees in the earliest stage of bloom,
and redbud blossoms getting close too.
So we can't complain that it's winter,
but yes, more of a pale spring.
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