It's the last day of March, and we woke up to a new three-inches of heavy wet snow. That sorta pokes a hole in the old adage that March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb, doesn't it? Here in DuBois, Pennsylvania, March came bleating in at around 60 degrees and, as of today, is roaring out with measurable snow ...
I can't complain, though. As only a heavy wet snow can do, all of the limbs and branches of the trees are laden with the same three inches of winter. As I look out my windows on top of the huge hill we live on, I have a panoramic view of pretty much the whole town and it's beautiful.
As Robert was leaving for work a few minutes ago, I waved goodbye and noticed the snow on the garage roof. Like icing on a too-warm cake, the snow is slowly sliding off the roof, literally in tiers. I couldn't help making a human, yet metaphoric, connection.
The biggest difference between Old Man Winter hanging on and humans who can merely stall for time is, winter knows it gets to come back again every year and, like a spoiled child, it still wants more ... as for me, I'm just grateful.