April snow

The snow lies deep and silent in the moonlight of an Easter night and what should evoke peace and calm and feelings of coziness because I am warm and dry, does not.

Instead I think that nature is playing a particularly unkind April Fool's joke on me and the little sparrows whose nest is tucked into the eaves above my porch.

April showers are supposed to bring May flowers, but April snows?

They freeze the blossoms right on the Tulip Magnolia tree and cover up the puddle of water the duck couple have been floating around in when they are not off sitting on their eggs somewhere.

No matter how disappointed and dispirited I am feeling I know I am better off than the young families trying to incubate their young among the frozen tundra of old corn fields and icy ditches and frigid porches.