|There Were Times We Regretted The Summer Palaces On Slopes, The Terraces
||[Apr. 16th, 2014|06:40 pm]
The sun was warm but the wind was chill. |
You know how it is with an April day
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You're one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak,
A cloud comes over the sunlit arch,
A wind comes off a frozen peak,
And you're two months back in the middle of March.
The last few days have been Spring indeed – close, warm, muggy air; flowers everwhere; all the bushes budding; the flowering trees putting forth. I keep muttering the line from the dwarf driver to the White Queen as her sledge ground to a halt – "This isn't a thaw. This is Spring."
Rain yesterday, watering the emerging vegetation. I scoffed when the radio said rain all night, and perhaps snow near the end as a cold front swept through. (Have you ever notice fronts always sweep through? It's the same issue as busses always plunging. You never hear of a bus disaster in, say, Kansas.) I threw the windows open to sleep, as I've been doing for a week now. So I was indeed amazed to wake up and find snow everywhere this morning.
Mind, it wasn't a lot of snow; a bit more than a dusting. And it wasn't actually snow, per se, any more; it was a layer of ice on lawns and cars. Walking to the subway, I passed a girl trying to scrape her windscreen, demanding as I passed "Why is it snowing?", sounding as though she'd gotten a miniature yoyo out of a gumball machine.
There was also a nice hard North wind, so I put my jacket back on. Apparently Chicago sent us their weather – I can see why they may not want it. Frost (above) expressed it nicely, though death got into the work by the end. I occasionally think that if he were working today, he'd be the lyricist for the best art-goth band outside of New York.
Well, I've hit my deliverable, sort of, so it's off to see what the afternoon sun has done to the weather. Ta!