I don't mind the weather.
Sure, it's March. Sure, in Atlanta and all other points south it's heading into the seventies. Sure, it's snowing here.
But really, there's something to snow and cold. After our stint in Minnesota, this is nothing. I laugh at twenty degrees and send my children out to play. I'll put on my own snowpants and hat to throw snowballs at the dog with them. When we've searched for rabbit tracks, cleared enough snow off the driveway to ride our bikes, and played king of the mountain on our snowpile, we'll head inside with rosy cheeks, ready for hot chocolate and a nap.
It's snowing today, which may well turn to freezing rain this afternoon. But I'm enjoying the flakes falling past my window. The grass and mud from Monday - when it climbed into the sixties - is covered in white again. I know that Spring will come. The crocuses are already peaking out of the ground in our neighbor's yard. Like so much else, it can't be stopped.
So for now, I'll enjoy the snow.
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